


The Moment I Said It

by animerag3



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Emotional Turmoil, Established Relationship, Follows most of the show until a few episodes after season 5, Gaslighting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, POV Arthur for one chapter, POV Merlin, POV Mordred, Psychological Trauma, Telepathy, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 19:55:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 43,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15126749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animerag3/pseuds/animerag3
Summary: Merlin decides that it is time he tells Arthur about his magic.  However, Arthur doesn’t take the news well and banishes Merlin from Camelot, the only true home Merlin has ever known.In which Arthur’s decision has massive consequences for all the (important) characters.





	1. Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction started off with me listening to "The Moment I Said It" by Imogen Heap, hence why if you know the song you will pick up on a few references to it in the first chapter. After that, it blossomed into what it is now and I couldn't be happier with it. Please give me pointers and notes as to how to improve my writing, everything is welcome. 
> 
> Italicized writing is either Merlin and Mordred talking in telepathy form, or someone's private thought process, I try to distinguish between which.

The moment he had opened his mouth, and the words spilled out, he knew the most probable reaction he would get.

 

And yet he had hoped, hoped for so long it wouldn’t be this way.

 

Arthur stood there, rigid, staring at him. Confusion, shock, disbelief, all shadowed his face in equal measure.  “Merlin, what is actually bothering you?” He set down the parchment he had been reading, leaning against the table.  “You’ve said this before when events you didn’t like ensued. Or when you were trying to save someone, don’t think I haven’t noticed.  What is it now?” 

 

“Sire, it is true, I swear.  I have magic.” Arthur continued to stare down his manservant, thinking maybe Merlin would finally let up and reveal the true reason he had come to bother him so close to bedtime.  Merlin decided he was going to have to prove to Arthur that what he said was true for once.

 

He looked over at the plate of food that rested, unattended to, on the table and lifted it, guiding it through the air and towards his hands to take back down to the kitchen.  The tray found its destination and Merlin looked up at Arthur.

 

The motley of emotions on Arthur’s face had finally settled into one.  Betrayal.

 

“Arthur, I can explain,” Merlin quickly started, setting down the tray, but Arthur lifted his hand and began to back up.  “Arthur, I am still me, I am still your loyal servant. Please, you have to believe me, I never wanted to hurt you.” Merlin started to walk towards his king, but Arthur startled and backed up further against the wall currently at his back.

 

“Don’t.  Stay there.”  Merlin stopped, disbelief raining on him in torrents as he watched the man he had devoted his life to protecting stare at him as if he were a beast poised to attack.  

 

“Arthur…,” Merlin’s voice came out in whispered desperation, pleading for Arthur to see eye to eye, to finally understand the benefit magic could bring.

 

“Stop.”

 

Merlin fell silent, allowing Arthur the chance to wrap his head around what he had just witnessed.  Time felt slow, almost to the point where Merlin thought he might see the Sidhe in their true form if they flew through the window, his heart thumping to the erratic beat his nerves orchestrated.

 

Arthur had his face in his palms, his fingers gripping the edges of his bangs tightly.  Merlin’s throat began to close. He tried to swallow whatever tears were pressing into his skull.  He had hoped that Arthur might see reason, might see someone who could help him in his fight against Morgana.  That Arthur could see everything wasn’t hopeless, and not everyone was out to get him.

 

Arthur looked back up at Merlin, rage morphing his features. “How could you?” he whispered.  Merlin choked. He wanted to defend himself, make Arthur see the beauty of magic, the benefits of it.  His mouth tried to form the unspoken words that floated in his mind. “How could you betray me? All this time, you were the one person I knew I could always trust.  How long have you been keeping this from me?” When Merlin didn’t give an answer Arthur raised his voice. “How long Merlin?!” 

 

“I’ve been like this since before I can remember,” Merlin mumbled.  He hoped Arthur heard him, he thought for sure the next time he opened his mouth bile would litter his sight.  His stomach was collapsing and simultaneously crawling up his throat. 

 

Arthur’s arms dropped in anguish. “You’ve kept it from me from the beginning?  All this time I thought…I thought you were my friend?”

 

“I am, Arthur. I have always been here to serve you and protect you as you fulfill your destiny, it is my only duty in life.”  The last bit began to slur as Merlin tried to swallow saliva, this wasn’t what he wanted, not at all. 

 

“And what, exactly, is that destiny, Merlin?” Arthur’s gaze bore a hole into him. Merlin felt his soul detach as he said in a monotonous voice: 

 

“To unite the lands of Albion, and create a place where both magic and non-magic persons could roam free.”

 

Arthur continued to look at Merlin with that gaze, Merlin didn’t know ice blue eyes could burn they way they did now.  “That was the only answer I needed to hear.” Arthur turned away from Merlin and looked out the window, leaving Merlin with the only thing he could say.

 

“Sire?”

 

“You are banished from Camelot.”

 

His body fell apart as fast as his life seemed to.  Nothing felt whole, his legs could no longer support him, his arms tried to drag him to the ground.  He became dizzy as the air escaped from his lungs. “Please, Arthur, please don’t, let me explain - “

 

“You have until sunrise to be across the border.  If you are caught in Camelot again, you will be sentenced to death.  While you should be executed here and now for the treason you have committed, I will allow you to leave with your head if not to repay you for the services you have performed since you have been here.  Do not think I will be this kind again. You are dismissed.” Arthur kept staring out of the window, never once turning around and addressing Merlin. Merlin just stood there as each word tore him apart.  He knew what he had risked telling Arthur, but banishment was worse than death to him. Camelot was his home.

 

“Arthur, if you must do something, then please, just kill me,” Merlin whispered.

 

Arthur spun on his heels and stalked over to Merlin, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket, seething. “Did you not hear me?  I gave my sentence. You were dismissed. Now get out of my sight before I decide otherwise.” With that, Arthur dragged Merlin out of his room, threw him as hard as he could to the ground, and slammed the door to his chambers.

 

Merlin stared at the door as his world caved in.  His mind reeled at what this would mean. Had he officially condemned magic forever?  Had he failed the destiny he had been endowed with? If Arthur couldn’t accept his closest friend, then what room did that leave for the kingdom?

 

He didn’t know when the tears spilled, when his labored breathing became hiccups, when he was no longer staring at Arthur’s door, but down the torch lit halls that led to the physician’s room.  Nothing felt real, he prayed that this was all just a nightmare, a cruel image he had conjured in his sleep.

 

And yet, the pain couldn’t have been more real.

 

As he staggered down the hall, a voice penetrated his thoughts.  He collapsed in a small enclave as the voice rang lovingly in his head.

 

_ Merlin, what’s wrong? Your magic is frantic and curling in on you.  Where are you, what’s going on? _

 

Merlin couldn’t take it.  He couldn’t break the news to Mordred.  He fell to the floor and cried harder than he had all night, allowing his emotions to overwhelm him.  They no longer felt like his, they were just a force within him that were escaping by any means they could.  

 

He gripped his legs and tried to steady his breathing as he replied to Mordred.  It’d be no use if he went searching for Merlin in the night. They had been doing well to keep both their magic and relationship under wraps, wandering the castle after curfew looking for Merlin would put Mordred in a fair amount of trouble with Arthur if caught.  

 

_ It’s fine, I was just given some information that overwhelmed me is all.  _

 

_ Are you sure? _

 

_ Yes Mordred, I’m sure.   _ Merlin paused, thinking of how to phrase his next words.  _ I will have to leave tonight though, the information I was given cannot be dwelled upon here in Camelot.  I can’t really explain, things will become clear in the morning, I promise. _

 

It wasn’t a lie.  Arthur would most likely announce Merlin’s banishment to the knights before patrols set out tomorrow.  It would be a cruel way to break it to Mordred, but he couldn’t have him giving up his loyalty to Arthur for something as trivial as what they had.  Not that he thought their relationship was trivial, but it didn’t hold up to what Mordred had here. And he didn’t think he would be strong enough to convince Mordred to stay.

 

Mordred still had a life to look forward to in Camelot.  And Merlin wouldn’t let him throw that away. Not for him, not for anyone.

 

_ It’s not even light out, and you’ve already got somewhere to be? Will you stop and say goodbye before going off on your oh so top secret mission, love? _

 

Merlin chuckled as the pet name resonated within him.  He was going to miss Mordred so much. He would miss everyone, Gaius, Gwen, the knights.  Even the one who was causing his misery, he would miss that prat, Arthur. Merlin laughed a bit at the thought of everyone and continued to feel sick at the thought of leaving them all. 

 

_ I shouldn’t, it will look bad for you if we get caught.  I will be alright though love, I will promise you that. _

 

Silence rang through Merlin’s mind.  He hoped he hadn’t offended the younger man. It was a bit before Mordred finally replied.

 

_ Ok, I understand.  Be safe, I will see you soon. _

 

Merlin couldn’t respond.  He shakily got up and continued to his room.  Gaius was thankfully fast asleep. Merlin grabbed a knapsack and began to fill it with the few clothes he owned, provisions for at least a week, and the magical books Gaius had given him.  He brought out some parchment, a quill, and ink, and wrote a note to Gaius. He should be waking him and telling him what had happened, but he couldn’t bring himself to do such a thing. 

 

His hand rushed up to his neck as he began to rush out of the room.  Merlin let out a shaky breath, the necklace that Mordred had given him still securely rested against his chest.  He could make it through the world with that, with the hopeful dreams of his partner encased in the multicolored stone that glistened in the dim light.  

 

When all was set and ready, he began to make his way out of the castle.  As he began to descend the staircases, the realization of this being the last he might ever see Mordred froze him. 

 

The thought gripped his mind and before he knew it, he was standing right outside Mordred’s door in the knights’ wing.  He took a deep breath as he unlocked the door, quietly stepping in and making his way towards Mordred’s bed.

 

Mordred sleeping was always a cherished moment for Merlin to witness.  The young man often tried to seem towering and powerful amongst the other knights, despite how much he was made fun of for it.  He showed exquisite promise amongst them though, his talent surpassed all the knights’ abilities tenfold. It wouldn’t be much longer before he was second in command to them.  But lying here in the night, Merlin could still see the innocent face of a young man that had yet to see the world’s destructive forces. Merlin knew Mordred had faced his fair share of battles when he was younger, and yet, he had still managed to hold onto that childlike wonder, something Merlin had squashed long ago.  Merlin brushed back the curls that dawned his face and leaned down to kiss his forehead, warmth spreading throughout his body at the contact with Mordred and his magic, tears threatening to escape once more.

 

Mordred’s eyes began to flutter as he stirred awake. “Merlin?” he asked, still bleary-eyed from being dragged out his dreams.

 

“Shh,” Merlin hushed.  “It’s alright, I just came to kiss you farewell.”  Mordred smiled as Merlin leaned forward and gave a light kiss on Mordred’s lips.  Merlin pulled back and looked into the face of someone who had a world of possibilities open to him.  Someone who had loved Merlin and accepted all he was, who was the bigger man between them both when Merlin couldn’t tell who were his friends and enemies.  It hurt to know he couldn’t have this anymore.

 

Merlin took in a shaky breath as he spoke. “Listen Mordred.  I want you to promise me something.” Mordred narrowed his eyes.  Merlin could see the alarm that was waking the poor man up at a rapid rate.  He was too keen for his own good. “No no, it's fine, I will be fine, I just need to hear this from you.”  Merlin took in another breath. “Promise me, that no matter what, you will always stay here in Camelot to protect Arthur and everything he stands for.”  

 

Mordred’s concern had fully woken him as he now sat up in his bed staring at Merlin confused.  “Merlin, I am a knight, that is what I have pledged my life to do. What is this about?”

 

Merlin bit his lip, trying to figure out how to phrase this without bringing any more alarm to the lad. “I just need to hear that you will, no matter what.  Emphasis on the no matter what.”

 

“Merlin, what is it you’re doing?  This is quite concerning, I don’t feel comfortable having this conversation without knowing what’s going on.”  Mordred was starting to get out of bed, and Merlin rushed over to push him back in.

 

“No, its fine, I promise, I can’t explain right now, as I said, you will understand soon.  Just please, please promise me.” Merlin begged, staring into the man’s pale eyes, hoping the message would get through to him.

 

After a while, Mordred finally nodded.  “Yes, I promise, Merlin, as long as you promise that whatever it is you are doing, it is something you will return safely from.”

 

Merlin pursed his lips, Mordred picking up on the hesitation and narrowing his eyes. “Yes Mordred,” Merlin quickly said.  “I can promise that I will be safe.”

 

Mordred relaxed upon hearing this.  To Merlin’s luck, he hadn’t picked up on the fact he didn’t promise he would return. “Ok.  Then I will see you soon, love.”

 

Merlin stared into Mordred’s eyes, sensing the challenge Mordred posed him.  Overcome with the pain of knowing he couldn’t respond the way Mordred wanted him to, he rushed in and gave a deep, passionate kiss, fingers laced into Mordred’s hair.  Mordred slowly brought his hands up and raked them through Merlin’s hair. He could feel his body trying to mold into Mordred’s, it didn’t want to leave this, all this that had happened to him.  Tears continued to stream down his face as he tried to infuse all his love into this last kiss. He was so blessed, and now it seemed his blessings had finally turned against him. As he let go of Mordred, he muttered under his breath. “Know that I will always love you Mordred.  Now sleep, I promise it’ll all be better.  _ Swefe nu _ .” Mordred collapsed into Merlin’s arms as the spell hit.  He laid him back down in his bed, tucking him in. He wiped the snot that dripped from his nose, he had long forgotten to wipe his eyes.  He felt he deserved to have them crust over on his face. 

 

He opened the door and turned around to look at Mordred once more as he peacefully slept.  This didn’t feel right, he shouldn’t be leaving his home.

 

What could he do about it?  His feet dragged him out of the castle, through the citadel.  He stopped to look up at the window to Arthur’s room. Arthur still stood there, looking straight at Merlin, waiting to see his old friend stalk out of the city.

 

Merlin stared back, hoping that maybe if he did so long enough, Arthur would change his mind.  But Arthur’s expression was set in stone. It wasn’t long after that Merlin finally turned to face the lower town and let his feet guide him out of the city, and eventually, out of the kingdom.


	2. Dissolved

If the person banging on Mordred’s door wasn’t going to stop, Mordred had a feeling he was going to have to fix or repair it.  That wasn’t knocking, that was a harsh beating. 

 

Mordred rolled onto his side “What?” he tried to shout at the door.  He heard Gwaine’s voice slip through. 

 

“Morning sunshine, though it won’t be sunshine much longer if you stay in and miss the council meeting today.  Arthur doesn’t look like he is in the mood to deal with tardiness. Or anyone’s shit for that matter.”

 

Mordred leapt out of the bed, managing to fall face first into his wardrobe as his blankets continued to coil around his leg.   _ Dammit _ , he thought,  _ the one meeting I need to be at in order to figure out where the hell Merlin went, and I’m barely able to function as is.  _  He never slept in, he was always up at the crack of dawn, usually to see if he could get a few moments in with Merlin before the rest of the kingdom woke.  This week’s training regiment had been tough though, his body might have finally started to give in to the exhaustion that had been building up in his muscles.

 

“You ok in there, kid?  Sounds like you’re fighting the bed.”  Gwaine was still at the door, for what reason Mordred could hardly fathom.  He flung on a tunic and breeches and quickly unlocked the door so that Gwaine could come in while he finished putting his chainmail and cloak on.

 

“I’m fine, didn’t realize how much the training had affected me I guess.”  Mordred slid on his gloves and went to grab the cloak. 

 

“I know, I don’t think I’ve ever fought as much as I did in just the past week.  I’m pretty sure every battle I have been engaged in, combined, didn’t add up to what brutality we endured.  Though I guess Arthur knows what he is doing.” Gwaine plopped onto Mordred’s bed, watching as Mordred struggled with the clasps of the cloak.  “You still have bed hair, by the way. Thought you’d want to know.”

 

Mordred rolled his eyes as he looked at Gwaine.  “I’m pretty sure bed hair is the last thing the King is going to worry about if I’m not there.”  Mordred finally got all the clasps locked in place and began running out of his room. 

 

“Hey, I waited with you so if that’s the case, you aren’t the only one to get chewed out.  Wait up!” Gwaine jogged to catch up to Mordred as they proceeded to briskly walk towards the hall.

 

“Why?” Mordred narrowed his eyes towards Gwaine.  The man was odd, he wasn’t afraid to speak bluntly when needed, but he sometimes had a mischievous look in his eyes that told Mordred he couldn’t always be trusted.  Though that mischievousness usually took the form of pranks or tavern fights, and Mordred knew more often than not his suspicions of the bad in people were just paranoia.

 

“Sheesh, no need to look at me as if I’m your executioner.  I don’t particularly care how much Arthur chews me out, but I’m pretty sure it’d shake your week if Arthur solely tried to burn a hole through you.”  Gwaine knocked his shoulder into Mordred’s while chuckling, and Mordred decided that while that statement made him sound like a kid looking for approval from a father, he was grateful one of his fellow knights was willing to help him out in tough situations.  It showed just how much they cared about him, something that always floored him when he dwelled on it.

 

“Thanks,” said Mordred.  His thoughts drifted to Merlin last night, his fretful antics that were on obvious display grating Mordred’s nerves.  “Do you know by any chance what might be covered at the meeting today?”

 

They turned the corner and headed down to the doors that entered into the hall.  “No idea. I figure the usual. Patrol details, grievances that we can deal with.”

 

“The patrols yesterday didn’t turn up anything new?” Mordred asked.  He figured if Merlin had been set on leaving last night, then the patrols had shown Arthur something Merlin couldn’t refuse to ignore, something pertaining to Morgana no doubt.  

 

Gwaine side eyed him.  “No. Why, is there something  _ you _ know?”  Mordred had to stop himself from hitting his head against the wall.  Of course if he asked something like that, questions towards him would arise.  Even the drunk Gwaine could see through the innocent act at times.

 

“No, I just wanted to see if I could get a head start on this week,” he fumbled.  He pushed open the double doors to reveal the rest of the knights and council getting ready to take their seats.

 

“Sir Mordred, Sir Gwaine, how nice of you to join us.”  Arthur’s voice bit at the two, lacking the usual jocular spirit it had when talking to his knights.  Mordred could feel the high strung tension in the room, and another look at everyone told Mordred that Gwaine wasn’t kidding when he said Arthur looked ready to put someone’s head on a spike.

 

Mordred nodded towards Arthur as he took his seat. “Sire,” he said.  Gwaine nodded as well, both taking their seats next to each other. Everyone was fidgety and silent.  Mordred wasn’t sure if he had already missed something important before the meeting.

 

“Today the agenda is pretty simple.” Arthur remained standing as he addressed knights and councilmen alike.  “We haven’t seen the likes of the Morgana or any attempts of her trying to enter Camelot. I believe for now she may be trying to gather up her resources for another attack.  While we are enjoying a nice break from the havoc she has reigned on us, I don’t think it wise to sit here unprepared. The knights know that I have been upping their training regiment to increase their fighting endurance.  I will be sending out more patrols to guard the borders and to let us know if there is any sign of Morgana. Queen Annis has agreed to help us out in our fight against her and will send a messenger here if any knowledge arises in her kingdom.  I want to use this time to go over some battle strategies for both here and on an open field. Afterward, I will dismiss the council and talk to the knights about patrol duties. Is that clear?”

 

“Yes, Sire,” everyone chanted.

 

“Good.”  Arthur massaged his temples as he began the meeting.  Mordred thought about Merlin. If nothing turned up regarding Morgana’s whereabouts and plans, then what was he doing?  He said things would become clear in the morning, but so far it seemed all was usual, minus the increase in border security and training.  The only thing different was Arthur’s demeanor towards everyone.

 

Maybe Arthur would bring up whatever it was during patrols.  Maybe something was seen and Arthur wants to only keep it among the knights.

 

The meeting continued, plans were gone over, resources and villages accounted for.  It felt like hours had crawled by, Mordred getting antsier by the second as information he knew was being kept from him continued to be hidden.  He noticed Gaius wasn’t putting forward any opinions of his own. Gaius almost always tried to help guide Arthur, especially when his advice was sought after by the young king, but there seemed to be a slight delay in Gaius’s answers.

 

“Gaius, what would work best for you if the citadel were to be attacked from here?”  Arthur had asked, pointing to the map of the castle. Gaius didn’t answer him but continued to look at the map.  He didn’t appear to be taking in anything.

 

“Gaius?” Arthur said, a little forceful for it to be concerned.  Gaius looked up at Arthur, an accusatory glare flickering in his eyes for a second before responding.  “Well, it would depend on…”

 

Gaius continued to explain and Mordred continued to observe.  While Gaius did well at keeping his emotions masked, Mordred noticed little cracks shine through during the meeting.  Mordred’s leg started bouncing, nerves flitting through his body as he noticed he was picking up on Gaius’s mental state.  Only one thing could get Gaius worked up this much, and that someone had probably waltzed himself into danger last night despite his promises to Mordred.  

 

Mordred wanted nothing more than to ask Arthur if there was something going on, but that would seem oddly suspicious coming from Mordred.  He didn’t need questions about how he knew Merlin was gone, or why he was asking about Arthur’s servant in the first place. 

 

At last, Arthur concluded the meeting.  “That about covers the meeting for today, any other requests before we take leave?”

 

Silence rang through the room.   _ Damned Merlin _ , Mordred thought,  _ absolutely nothing has become clearer through this, the moment he gets back, or I drag his ass back, we are going to need to talk about this whole “saving the world,” mindset that is going to result in him tied to a stone at the bottom of a lake if he doesn’t get his self-sacrificing complex under control _ . 

 

“Sire,” Mordred snapped his head around.  Why was Gwaine making this meeting longer than it had already been?  He was ready to get out of here and go thwart Gaius with as many questions as he could.  If anyone knew were Merlin actually was it would be him. “Pardon me if I am speaking out of turn, but you know I don’t particularly care for niceties.  I noticed Merlin has been missing most of this meeting, and while you can stand there and say he is just a servant all day, I know you usually have him in these stuffy meetings to get his input later.  No offense councilmen.” Mordred had to try his hardest not to smirk, he honestly didn’t know where Gwaine got the gall to speak the way he did to nobility. “I was wondering if something had happened, or if he finally managed to pass out at that tavern he always seems to fancy.”  All the knights laughed under their breath, they all knew Merlin never went to that blasted tavern. Gaius always used it as cover for Merlin, Merlin hated it, and thus why he will always be at the tavern when he is missing no matter what.

 

Arthur didn’t crack a smile.  He looked at the table, a newfound rage slowly creeping its way on his face.  Mordred didn’t like the expression, Arthur looked as though he might just storm out of the room each second that passed by.  The knights took notice of his behavior and waited, breaths held, trying to gauge whether they should press the matter any further or not.  

 

Arthur looked up and squared himself off at Gwaine.  “I was going to save this for the patrol meeting later, but it doesn’t matter anyway.  It had been brought to my attention last night that Merlin is a sorcerer.”

 

Mordred froze.  He didn’t dare move.  His thoughts both screamed run and to not draw any attention to himself.  An anvil had dropped on his head, his muscles spasmed as they took in the adrenaline coursing through him.  He couldn’t think, didn’t think, didn’t want to know, had to know. Magic was still outlawed. Treasonous. If Arthur knew Merlin had magic…

 

What happened to Merlin?

 

Mordred dug his fingers into his forearms as he tried to contain himself while Arthur continued, voice now bitter.  “This time was not a fake, as he had seemed to fraudulently claim in the past. I had evidence, I witnessed his power with my own eyes.  Magic is of high treason in Camelot. In accordance with the law, he was to be executed.” Mordred stopped breathing, waiting to hear what Merlin’s verdict had been, his heart erratically pulsing now.  “However, I could not bring myself to hand him that sentence, and thus he is now banished from Camelot. If he enters or is found in the kingdom again, he will have signed his death sentence. Patrols are to now take this into consideration.”

 

Mordred shot up, knocking his chair back.  It landed with a thud that echoed as if it were a gavel, deciding their fate.  Whether it was Arthur’s or Mordred’s, Mordred couldn’t tell. He didn’t know where to begin.  His breathing was heavy, his eyes wild. He wanted nothing more than to shout at Arthur about how wrong he was in all of this.  He wanted to climb on the table and run towards him, sword drawn, or hands wrapped around his neck. He could feel his magic starting to get the better of him, all it would take was to throw Arthur back hard enough against the wall to crack his skull.  

 

Arthur was the reason Merlin left.  Why Merlin had seemed distressed last night.  Why he had kissed him as if it was the end of the world, why he kept rewording his promises. Why he had made Mordred promise to stay with Arthur no matter what.  

 

He couldn’t possibly, no.  Merlin wouldn’t leave him like this, he would have told Mordred.  This couldn’t be true. Yet, it seemed crystal clear that it was. Mordred wanted to scream and cry, whether out of frustration, rage, or sorrow he couldn’t tell.

 

“Mordred,” Arthur leveled at him.  Mordred was still breathing heavily through his nose, shaking.   Gwaine had grabbed his arm when he shot up, but Mordred was only just now aware of the tight grip as he heard Gwaine whisper, “not now, Mordred, not now.”

 

“Do you have something you would like to say Mordred?”  Arthur carefully asked, and it was obvious from how Mordred reacted that Arthur probably now suspected Mordred knew of Merlin’s magic if nothing else.  

 

Mordred began to open his mouth, ready to let the unfettered feelings voice themselves when Gaius chimed in. “I believe Mordred is in shock at the realization that one of his friends was a sorcerer, Sire, as we all are.  I think it would be best if we all took a moment to calm down and let the facts sink in.”

 

Mordred glared at Gaius, the last thing he wanted was to calm down.  Gwaine was still trying to drag him back down into his chair, but Mordred wasn’t having it.

 

He couldn’t hold it together.  If he stayed in this room any longer, he would either break down as the memories he shared of Merlin infiltrated his mind, or he would lop Arthur’s head off.  And seeing the latter wasn’t ever going to be a valid option, Mordred snapped his arm out of Gwaine’s hold, turned on his heels, and marched out of the hall. 

 

“Sir Mordred, you will stop right now or face heavy consequences.”  He heard Arthur as he flung the double doors open, but he wasn’t about to stop.  To hell with the damn consequences, he didn’t care what happened to him anymore. He briskly walked in the direction of his room, running into servants each corner he turned.  The tears weren’t waiting for privacy though. He started running, barreling his way through the door to his room and slamming it as hard as he could. 

 

He ripped off is chain mail and flung it across the room.  He yelled until his voice could no longer support it. He kicked over the sparse furniture that was in his quarters.  Each moment, a memory of Merlin, his goofy smile that brightened his world, the soft hand he would bring up to Mordred’s cheek would flit in and out of his thoughts.  The small intimate moments came flooding back to him, each one ripping his heart, until all that would be left was a frayed string of tissue. He couldn’t understand why Merlin wouldn’t tell him, why he would leave Mordred as if he was nothing.  Not important enough to let him know the situation. Merlin had decided for himself what he thought was best for Mordred instead of letting Mordred decide himself. His yells turned into sobs, sobs turned into dry heaving, and soon he was curled on his bed, with nothing more than a deep longing for the man he could no longer see, an anger at himself for not being trusted to help the man he loved, and a new deep-seated hatred for the one he served.


	3. Entropy

Gray, that was all that could be seen to Merlin as he entered his hometown of Ealdor.  The sky was gray. The light it cast down on the town was gray. The houses were gray. Nothing had life or color to it the way Merlin remembered.

 

A few of the townsfolk had seen Merlin approaching Ealdor, so when he came upon the first house at the entrance of the village, his mother stood there, waiting patiently for her only son to come to her.

 

Merlin walked up and stopped, shifting from foot to foot. “Hello mother,” he said, looking down into eyes that were able to read and sift through the storm of emotions that radiated off of him.  

 

“Oh, Merlin, my boy!” Hunith wrapped her son into a warm embrace, and Merlin could no longer contain himself.  He grabbed the back of her dress and curled up into her shoulder, wishing the world would stop spinning for a second.  He wanted the dizziness to subside, the nausea to rear down. A few moments they spent together like that, standing out in the open, a mother and her son.  

 

“Let's go inside, Merlin.  You can tell me what happened over some porridge.”  She guided him into their house, hands never leaving his arms as he let himself be gently pulled in the proper direction.  Once inside, Hunith pressed Merlin down onto a stool by the kitchen table and began preparing the porridge. Silence filled the room throughout the meal preparation, Merlin staring at the wall, listening to the pitter patter of rain droplets that began to shower on the town.  When dinner was served and Hunith sat across from him, Merlin finally spoke.

 

“Arthur found out I have magic.”  Hunith looked up from her bowl, her hand dropping her spoon as she reached to grab Merlin’s hands. 

 

“Oh, honey, what happened?”

 

Merlin’s eyes stung as he tried to recount the flashbacks he had been reliving during his journey.  “I went to tell Arthur. I thought that maybe...maybe he was lightening up to the idea of having magic in the kingdom.  I thought maybe I could change his mind if he saw that his closest friend and ally had magic. I thought he could see that I would be helpful in the fight against Morgana.  But he…” Merlin sniffed, he didn’t think it possible to have any more tears left him after all the crying he had done, but tears trailed down his face nonetheless. He sighed, “he banished me from Camelot.  I can’t go back now. I can’t go home.” His voice strained to get the last words out as sunk his head into his arms. His head was getting heavier the more he thought about Arthur’s words that night.

 

_ I thought you were my friend. _

 

“Oh, Merlin.  I’m so sorry, come here.”  She walked around the table and embraced him again, rocking back and forth and massaging his back as he dry-heaved the tears that could no longer be shed.  “It’s alright, it’s alright, you are here, you will be alright.”

 

Merlin whispered into her shoulder. “I don’t know, Mother.  I don’t know if I will ever be alright. I had a life there. All my friends are there.  Arthur is there. The people I love are there. I love you mother, but I have come to see Camelot as my home, and while I know this is my home as well it just doesn’t feel the same.” His voice croaked and he continued to breathe heavily as his body tried to continue releasing tears that it could no longer produce. 

 

Merlin felt his mother pull back, and a hand was lifting his chin up, forcing his eyes to meet his mother’s.  “Son, it will be alright. I know you, I know you are the strong, capable man I saw growing up. I know this seems like it is the end of the world.  And while that may be true in some regards, you know you will always have a place here, where you are loved and accepted no matter what, understand?”

 

Merlin took a deep breath as he nodded.  “Yes, Mother.” Hunith nodded and hugged Merlin again, both of them staying there until Merlin felt well enough to pull back.  He sniffed and wiped his nose on his jacket sleeve.

 

“I don’t know if I will stay here for long.  There is something I am planning on doing, and while staying here with you would be a blessing, I may have to leave and resolve some unfinished business I have elsewhere.”  

 

“What unfinished business could you possibly have?” Merlin picked up on the alarm in her voice.  He had told her about Morgana before, how she threatened the well being of Camelot and the dangers she possessed as she gathered armies in Essetir.  That also meant Hunith knew her son well enough to know that business outside of Camelot meant protecting Arthur or the kingdom despite the costs to himself.  

 

“There is something I must do, that I hope will eventually help Arthur to form the kingdom that he is prophesied to create.  It was hard to do so with having to keep my magic a secret from everyone. But I have the opportunity now to end all of this once and for all, and if I can’t fulfill my destiny at Arthur’s side, then I will do whatever it takes to get Arthur there from afar.”

 

Merlin felt Hunith look him over, feeling the uneasiness coming off of her in regards to this proclamation.  “Will you be safe in performing this unfinished business, Merlin?” 

 

Merlin looked at her a bit, a faint sorrow in his eyes.  “No mother, I’m not going to lie, I most likely will not.  I know it's not what you want to hear, but understand, that no matter how much you will try to talk me out of this, I am going regardless.”

 

Hunith nodded, accepting that she wouldn’t be able to change Merlin’s mind if this is what he was set to do. “It has to do with Morgana, doesn’t it?” Merlin nodded as Hunith let this information sink in.  “Please, be careful, in all that you do in your travels, Merlin.” Merlin scoffed a bit. 

 

“I’m always careful Mother, don’t you know?”

 

Hunith laughed as she took in her son’s appearance.  “Just know, that no matter what happens, I am proud of you Merlin.”  Merlin looked at her, tears threatening to spill over in his eyes once again.  “You have grown to be more than any man could wish to be. You have put duty above all else, continue to serve a king that has no idea the extents you have gone through for him, and still manage to come out on the other side, uncorrupted.   Merlin, I’ve always been proud of you, but you can’t understand the depth of how much I am in this moment.”

 

Merlin wiped his eyes with his sleeves.  “Thank you, Mother. I love you.” 

 

“I love you too. Now eat up your porridge and rest, it's been a long journey.”

 

Merlin nodded, picking up his spoon and forcing a few mouthfuls down before deciding to turn in for the night.


	4. Chasm

Mordred quickly flung his knapsack under the bed as he heard a knock at the door.

 

“Enter,” Mordred said.  He had expected someone would come to talk to him after the show he put on at the meeting today.  He wouldn’t have been surprised if Arthur himself had come down to reprimand him. 

 

So when he saw Gaius enter his room, he was at a loss to say anything.

 

“Mordred,” Gaius said, nodding his head in acknowledgment.  

 

“Gaius, what is it that brings you here?”  Mordred didn’t know what Gaius would want with him after today, it was clear to both of them now why Merlin wasn’t here, there was no need for them to be around each other.

 

Yet he knew Gaius.  Mordred often spent a fair amount of time in the physician's room chatting with Merlin or waiting for him to turn up at the end of the day’s work.  Merlin had told Gaius about Mordred’s magic, and Mordred had a sneaky suspicion the physician knew about their relationship, even if he wasn’t told outright.  If anyone knew what Mordred was going through, it would be Gaius. And Gaius most likely had the same thoughts about Mordred right now.

 

“I wanted to talk to you about Merlin.”  Mordred stiffened, disliking the authoritative tone Gaius was putting on.  The sound of Merlin’s name made Mordred’s lip curl in a slight snarl. He was still upset at his lover for abandoning him with nothing more than a kiss and a sleeping spell.  He knew that was the real reason he had woken up late this morning, it had to have been. Seems Merlin couldn’t have Mordred stop or follow him. When Mordred had calmed down from destroying his room, he had attempted to connect with Merlin through their telepathic link.  It was stronger than any Mordred had made with another person, he and Merlin could communicate kingdoms away if need be. So when Merlin didn’t respond to any of his cries, and Mordred couldn’t pick up on Merlin’s magic, due to what most likely was an attempt at severing the link on Merlin’s end, his anger towards the warlock infected his mind and body.   

 

“What about him?” Mordred bit out.

 

“Did he say anything to you about this turn of events?”  

 

Mordred stared daggers at the old man as he collected himself enough to spat out his answer. “No, he did not.  He came to me in the middle of the night after I -,” he looked at the door, not wanting there to be anyone around if he was going to talk about magic with the physician.  Gaius picked up on this and looked down the hall both ways before shutting the door.

 

“After I picked up on his magic.  He seemed distressed. I had asked him what it was about, but he didn’t tell me.  Said he needed to go somewhere, he had gotten information that he couldn’t refuse and had to leave now.  He made it sound like he was on another one of his quests to stop havoc from coming to Camelot.” His voice shook as the events replayed in his mind.  “He came into my room and kept trying to make me promise to stay with Arthur no matter what happened. I didn’t understand why he was asking for it, but he was so persistent I finally gave in.  I think afterward he had cast a sleeping spell on me, I woke up much later than what was normal, and the more I replay the night’s events in my head the more I think it to be true.” Mordred turned away from the old man and went to look out the window to his quarters.

 

Gaius took all this in, before finally saying, “and what is it you plan to do, Mordred?”

 

Mordred snapped around.  He considered lying to Gaius and telling him he would remain here, maybe it would hurt Gaius just enough to know Merlin’s closest friend didn’t care enough to seek him out.  But he knew the old man could look through it in a second.

 

“I’m going after him, of course.  I’m sorry Gaius, but Camelot isn’t worth it, in my opinion.  If Arthur can so easily cast aside one of his closest friends for the sole reason he has magic, then I’m not sure I want to stay here.  Merlin means more to me than any of this ever has. I need to see him, I need to be with him, I need to talk to him. Please understand, Gaius.”

 

Gaius looked at him for a minute. “You do realize that goes against Merlin’s wishes, do you not?  Merlin left me a note last night and told me that he figured you would work yourself up in a fit of rage and leave Camelot at a moment’s notice without thinking of the consequences.  Without realizing all that you would be leaving behind.”

 

“To hell with it!” Mordred yelled out. “Merlin is the only thing that has ever truly mattered to me, and I’m not about to let the best goddamn thing that roams this Earth out of my grasp.  He could be injured by now, for all I know, and while I know he can take care of himself, I can’t grasp the fact that he could be hurt while I sit here and do nothing!” 

 

Mordred panted, he had enough of this, the discussion was only holding him up.  “Now please, Gaius, if you are only here to stop me, then I might say it was a wasted journey.  It would be best to spend the rest of your time elsewhere.” With that, Mordred reached under his bed to grab the knapsack he had been in the process of filling.  

 

He heard a couple of vials clink together onto his table.  “For your journey, I hope that they will be useful for you and Merlin.  They are some potions that will help with any injuries either of you may encounter.”  Gaius turned around to leave as Mordred realized that Gaius probably knew him better than he had thought.  “And Mordred,” Mordred turned to see Gaius exiting his room. “Please let me know when you have found him safe.”  He walked out of his room, leaving Mordred stunned at the ease to which the physician had let him off the hook. 

 

It was dark now, the rain had started up hours ago and refused to let up.  Mordred clasped his knapsack shut and headed towards the stables. The guards were never too observant and Mordred was quiet on his feet to begin with.  Not that anyone could stop him, his mind was set on Merlin. He knew Merlin, knew that while he may be banished, he wasn’t going to sit still and take that sentence.  He would manage to get himself into trouble quick enough. Mordred just hoped that would find Merlin before such a thing happened.

 

He needed to talk to him.  To know why Merlin had just left without saying anything.  Did he really think Mordred would do as he was told and stay put?  After all they had been through together, the work Mordred had put in to show Merlin could trust him, could befriend him, and eventually love him, that Mordred would just accept Merlin’s banishment?  That he would accept him just up and disappearing from his life? If that’s what Merlin thought, he better be prepared for what was coming to him.

 

Mordred twirled the obsidian ring with the same hand it was on as he stalked through the night.  The only reminder he had of Merlin other than his memories. Merlin had given it to him one holiday as a token of affection.   _ Not just because you got me something pretty for my birthday, and no this is not an engagement ring, stop beaming as if it is, _ Merlin had said. Mordred had treasured the gift, treating it as a symbol of commitment to Merlin.  He would find the idiot soon, he would make sure of it.

 

He made it to the stables and started prepping one of the horses when footfalls interrupted him.  He snapped his head up, reaching for the dagger that was in its holster, when the person revealed themselves.

 

“Mordred,” Arthur leaned against the doorway.  His expression was blank, infuriating Mordred more than he already was.  He let go of the dagger hilt, shifting his weight to face the King.

 

“You can’t stop me, Arthur.”  Mordred didn’t even bother with greetings, Arthur was here to reprimand him, hold him here, execute him if need be.  He wasn't going to give Arthur that chance. “While you may not see the value in Merlin anymore, I will not let my friend wander about in another kingdom when his home is here.”  

 

“Mordred,” Arthur tried, but Mordred couldn’t contain his rage towards the King anymore.

 

“No, Arthur, you don’t get it,” Mordred seethed as he walked closer to His Majesty.  “If that means I have to leave the knights, so be it. If that means you have to banish me as well, so be it.  But you will not hold me here while I know Merlin is still alive out there. And if you just as much try, I will not hesitate to blow my way out of here.”  Mordred was in Arthur’s face now, spit flying as Mordred spat out the last of his words. Arthur was pulling his head back to not get hit by it.

 

“Mordred!”  Arthur shouted, giving Mordred a pause that allowed the King to get a few sentences in. “While I understand your anger and resentment towards me, I think you have overlooked the reason I am here.”

 

Mordred stilled and narrowed his eyes.  “And why is that,  _ Sire _ ?” he sneered.

 

Arthur lifted up his own knapsack.  “You have failed to notice that you are not the only one who is planning on going and finding the dimwit as well.”  Mordred continued to stare at him through narrowed eyes as the rest of the knights rounded the corner.

 

“Gwaine and Leon here convinced me to at least seek Merlin out.”  Arthur looked down at the ground as his confession continued. “I was blinded by my hatred towards magic in the moment and came up with one of the harshest punishments available without hearing his side.  Not only have I failed as a king in that regard, but as a friend as well. While I may not change my mind about magic, nor expect him to ever forgive me, the least I can do is hear his side of the story.” Arthur looked up into Mordred’s eyes, a look of raw honesty of how his previous judgment had hurt those around him pouring through them.  Mordred looked at the rest of the knights, all prepped to start a long and arduous journey ahead of them. He relaxed a bit, not forgiving Arthur with this new proclamation, but content at knowing that at least he might have the help of his fellow knights in finding the warlock. The more there were of them, the better chance they might have. 

 

“I also threatened to leave too, and I don’t think Arthur would have liked having to banish three people in the span of a day, so that might have helped as well,” Gwaine said, lightly punching Mordred’s shoulder.  Everyone laughed a bit, the tension slowly declining from the previous encounter.

 

“Well, there is no time to waste then,” Mordred said.  “The rain will already make it hard to track him, we haven’t got time to lose.”

 

“Hold up, Mordred.”  Arthur grabbed his arm, preventing him from finishing saddling up the horse.  “I know that you want to go find him this instant, but the rain is horrendous.  Besides, I’m already certain I know where he is, we can ride out in that direction at first light.”

 

Mordred was hesitant, not wanting to believe the King.  Riding out now would be the best way to track him, even if the rain was bad it would wash away anything that could lead them to Merlin.  Snarkily he said, “and where might that be, Sire?”

 

Arthur looked at him.  “Ealdor.” He looked down at the stable floor, a reminiscent look dawning him.  “His hometown isn’t in Camelot, something I hadn’t even considered when I banished him but which I am most grateful for now.” 

 

Mordred mentally kicked himself at this revelation.   _ Of course _ , he thought.   _ I hadn’t even considered he might go home, here I am working myself into a fit thinking he’s gone and sacrificed himself somewhere _ .  Mordred nodded, letting this new information take hold.  “Alright, Sire. First light it is then.”

 

The knights all bid each other goodnight, Mordred walking back to his quarters, thinking of the new day ahead.

  
_ It will be alright Merlin _ , he thought.   _ We will be alright, just hang on, I will be there _ . 


	5. Penitence

Merlin fidgeted with his necklace as he thought about Mordred.   _ I hope he took the news well. _  Merlin remembered Mordred’s previous reactions to emotional news, how impulsive and explosive he could be, and he rubbed his eyes with one of his hands.   _ Of course he didn’t.  He probably hates me now.  I just left without telling him why, without even giving him a choice in coming with me.  I wouldn’t be surprised if he is doing target practice on a dummy imagining my face on it. _  He sighed, letting his hand rest on his mouth, looking out the doorway at the dewy grass, the first rays of the day’s sun reflecting back on the drops. 

 

He had already cut off Mordred telepathically the previous day, figuring it would be for the best.  Whilst on his journey to Ealdor, his voice had clearly cut through his mind. 

 

_ Merlin?  Where are you?  Please, talk to me.  Anything. _

 

It was enough for him to put a mental barricade up.  He couldn’t bear to hear the pleas, the cries in his voice, the trembling.  Soon it would turn to rage and frustration, Merlin knew. He didn’t want to hear them when they turned into steam.  He didn’t want to hear them when they turned dead and cold. It was him that left, that broke it off without a word, and that’s how it would stay, regardless of how his heart clenched and mourned for the loss of that closest to him.  He felt Mordred’s magic poke and prod at his mind, trying to get through what shields Merlin had effectively put up, but he persisted to keep them in place.  _ I deserve this, _ he thought,  _ I deserve to feel horrendous about this for the rest of my life, and he deserves someone far better than what I could ever offer him.  Someone that won’t abandon him or give him empty promises.  _ His left hand continued to twirl the leather strap of the necklace Mordred gave him.

 

“What’s on your mind, Merlin?” Merlin looked at his mother, giving her a wistful glance, before looking back out the door.  

 

“Nothing much, mother.  Just some of my friends back at Camelot.”

 

Hunith nodded.  “Anyone in particular?”  Merlin shook his head, he wasn’t sure if he could bring up his relationship.  He knew his mom said he was accepted no matter what, but that pertained to magic.  He didn’t know what she would think about this.

 

“Just everyone.”  Merlin sighed, letting his head rest against the door frame.

 

Hunith eyed her son a bit before turning away to start preparing breakfast.  A long silence passed before she spoke again.

 

“Who gave you the necklace?”  

 

Merlin froze, the leather strap twirled tightly around his fingers.  He wasn’t sure how to respond before he figured answering her question with most of the truth wouldn’t seem too out of the ordinary.

 

“A young man in Camelot.  His name is Mordred. He is one of Arthur’s knights.  We didn’t see eye to eye at first, but we formed a pretty strong friendship a bit later.  Kind of like how I thought Arthur was a prat at first, though I thought Mordred was a bit suspicious.  But he turned out to be better than I could have imagined.” Merlin, momentarily forgetting about being discreet, got lost in his memories as he continued.  “He gave it to me for my birthday, kind of surprising actually. Didn’t think he was the present type.” Merlin looked at the stone. It came from one of the Druid camps, Mordred had told him.  While originally it was meant to change colors to show moods, Mordred had managed to enchant it so that each color was visible depending on how it reflected in the light. It was one of the best gifts Merlin had ever received.

 

“Sounds like you like him a lot,” Hunith said warmly.

 

Merlin laughed a bit.  “Yeah, he is a good friend.”  Merlin teared up a bit, remembering Mordred as he lit up when Merlin had kissed him after receiving such a beautiful present.   _ A beautiful gift for a beautiful person, _ he had said.  

 

“If I am being quite honest, Merlin, he sounds like more than a friend to me.”  Merlin’s heart stilled as he looked at his mother, unsure of how to proceed from here.  Hunith walked over to her son and placed her hands on either cheek of his.

 

“Merlin,” she said.  “I told you that no matter what I will accept you.  I can see it in your face. You love him, don’t you?”  Merlin hesitated for a moment before nodding, tears replacing the unspoken words of how her acceptance affected him.  “It’s alright. From the way you speak about him, he sounds like a fine man.” 

 

“He is, mother.  He is wonderful. Tall, strong, handsome.  A knight. Appears standoffish and cold at first, but has such a childlike wonder to him.  He is fiercely loyal, funny. He also has magic, if you can believe it.” He wiped his nose on his sleeve.  “I only told Arthur about me, if Mordred keeps his promise and stays with Arthur, he might be the one to persuade Arthur to fulfill his destiny and allow magic back.  Arthur has always taken a liking to him. I can only hope he felt betrayal from my sudden leaving with no explanation and a need to stay with Arthur, than ditch everything he has going for him to find a lost cause like me.” Merlin took his head into his hands as he choked back sobs.  He felt his mother gently take his hands away.

 

“Merlin, you deserve the best that there is to be offered.  Don’t ever think you don’t. And if Mordred feels the same about you that you do him, then I don’t think he will ever think you betrayed him.  While I cannot say what actions he will take, I believe he will love you as much as you love him. As you deserve to be loved.” Merlin let his mother take his head into her shoulder and he grasped onto her as the only lifeline he had tying him here in this moment.

 

“Thank you, Mother.  I love you. And I love him too, so much.”

 

“I know, Merlin, I know.”

 

They stayed like that until they heard the villagers walking around town, starting up the new day.  “I have to collect some things from the others today, Merlin. Do you mind tidying up the place a bit?  Give you something to do.”

 

Merlin sniffed as he tried to compose himself.  “Yes, I will do what I can.” Hunith smiled at him, and Merlin let himself relax.  Even if he didn’t think he deserved any of the comforts that were offered, he was grateful he had such a loving mother.  

 

Hunith left, and Merlin spent the day cleaning the hut, fixing up holes that rodents and bugs were entering from.  Throughout the day, Merlin thought of Camelot. He remembered the state it was in when he left. They weren’t prepared for any kind of battle that may befall them.  While Merlin didn’t know of Morgana’s status or whereabouts, he had the freedom to do something about it. Even if he couldn’t stop her, he might be able to disable her enough to let Arthur take hold and finish the job.  It was all he could do for the long-lost destiny that he had been dealt.

 

By the time Hunith came back, Merlin had made his decision.  He would spend the night here, and by early morning he would leave to gather intel on Morgana and her latest schemes.

 

“Mother.”  Hunith put down her basket filled with crops and looked at Merlin.

 

“Yes, my boy?”

 

Merlin took in a breath.  “I’m going to leave in the morning.”  He saw the sadness in her eyes and he tried to backtrack a bit.  “I love you, no matter what, but I can’t sit here and not fulfill my destiny.  It is calling to me, even now as I speak to you.”

 

“Merlin,” Merlin could feel her scrutinizing his appearance, thinking about all that he had told her the previous day, “do you feel rested enough to do such a thing?”

 

“Yes, Mother.”  He let his determination speak for him.  “While I may look and seem distressed, and I would be lying if I said I am not anymore, I know what it is I need to do.”

 

She nodded.  “Well then, go and do what it is you need to do.”  Merlin smiled, walking over to her and hugging her.  He pulled back. “I love you, Mother.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

They talked about small things after, what had happened in Ealdor after Kanen’s men were dealt with, the peaceful town life.  Merlin was glad to be able to bask in this small, secluded piece of heaven for at least one more night. It had been ages since he had felt this safe. 


	6. Self-Inflict

They disembarked and set up camp, slightly less than a day’s journey out from Ealdor.  Mordred sat on a log, twisting the ring around his middle finger, staring at the pile of twigs and wood that Percival was trying to light.

 

“Hey,” Gwaine sat next to Mordred.  Mordred continued to stare at the firepit.  “Hey, I know Merlin has got you worried, but it will be fine, I promise.  From the looks of it, we might see him soon.” 

 

Mordred slowly turned his gaze from the fire pit to Gwaine and let it rest on him.  “What?” Gwaine said. “Have I got something in my teeth?”

 

“What if he isn’t there when we arrive, Gwaine?”  Gwaine’s expression changed as Mordred continued to doubt himself.  “What if he decided to wander off somewhere and got himself hurt, and we are letting him die by not being there for him?”  At the thought of this, Mordred tried once more to see if he could pick up on Merlin’s magic anywhere. He had tried to since he left Camelot but kept coming up short on any actual trace of Merlin. It was becoming more and more apparent that Merlin closed the link, hoping it would encourage Mordred to forget about him.  All that did was cause Mordred to shiver with unwarranted anxiety, he had no way of knowing if the warlock was safe. 

 

“Hey,” Gwaine bumped his shoulder into Mordred’s.  “It’s no use in worrying about something we don’t even know of.  First, we get to Ealdor and check it out for ourselves. Afterward, we can start worrying about such things, OK?”

 

Mordred nodded.  He didn’t want this conversation to continue, he wanted to sit and be left to his festering thoughts.  All that occupied his mind was Merlin’s laugh, his smile, the playful banter between them. He continued to twist the ring around his finger, hoping he would see that same smile when they approached his home village.

 

“He give you the ring?” Mordred whipped his head up to look at Gwaine, alarmed that Gwaine could have picked up on anything.  He and Merlin had been careful to not appear as anything more than good friends, no one could have accurately assumed anything was between them, could they?  Gwaine was just grasping at straws, the ring could be from anyone, right?

 

Before Mordred could deny anything, Gwaine raised both of his hands in defense, lowering his voice.  “Hey, no need to be alarmed. I’ve seen the way you two act around each other. While most people would probably think you two are best friends, those of us that know you guys know there is something more there.”  Mordred narrowed his eyes, he didn’t like where this conversation was going anymore and began to stand up. He needed to get away from Gwaine before he said something betraying their relationship further.

 

“Mordred, it’s alright.  I’m not going to say anything.  Though it really doesn’t matter, most of the knights are aware of it.  Hell, Arthur is probably aware to some extent as well. He just overlooks it because he would rather everyone be happy than having to deal out any harsh consequences.”  Mordred paused, listening to Gwaine as he continued. “We know how much Merlin means to you. We will get him back, I promise you that.” Mordred felt a hand clasp on his shoulder, and Gwaine passed by him, walking over to where the rest of the knights were huddled around the food they just cooked.

 

Mordred stood there for a bit, dumbfounded that he and Merlin were so careless in how they had handled their relationship.   _ Though _ , Mordred thought,  _ if they all know and don’t care, then it must not have been as bad as we had perceived.  While it may still not be accepted in the kingdom, maybe, just maybe, we can be a little more ourselves around them _ .  Then Mordred remembered the ban on magic, the whole reason they were out here to begin with, and dread filled him as he realized he and Merlin could never truly be themselves around anyone but each other. 

 

“Mordred!” Leon shouted.  “Stop staring out into the forest like you are a lost bachelor from a tragedy and get some food!”  The knights laughed and Mordred dragged himself over to the fire, eating what all he felt he could handle, and turning himself in as the first man took watch.


	7. Look Up

Merlin listened to the rustle of the leaves, the birds that hummed the calling of nature itself.  He had headed off into the forests of what was now Lot’s kingdom, after Cenred’s passing during the battle between Camelot and Essetir.  

 

He didn’t know where to look for Morgana.  The only reliable traces he had were the semblances of magic he felt vibrate throughout the Earth.  More likely than not they would lead him to a Druid camp though. He didn’t want to stop and give them the hero worship they always seemed to partake in when he was around.  

 

Sighing, he continued in the direction of Lot’s castle.  If Morgana was unable to find the Dimir, then she most likely moved out of that freeze bust and tried to settle elsewhere.  Essetir seemed to be the most likely kingdom she would be in since Essetir was formerly an ally of hers. 

 

His thoughts drifted back to Mordred.  The dark hair that fell over his pale blue eyes when his hair grew a little too long.  The bright smile that lit up his face. He remembered the way Mordred would hold him when the world was too much, carefully caressing his head and whispering loving words into his ear.  He couldn’t get his mind to think of anything else. Every time he tried to focus on another task, his mind brought him back to Mordred.

 

He thought about how infuriated the young man could get.  He hoped Mordred hadn’t done anything rash, he knew his temper easily got out of control.  It was all Merlin could hope for that he would fulfill Merlin’s promises and stay safe in Camelot.  Gaius would help guide him, as he did Merlin. 

 

Water could be heard running not too far ahead.  He could use a break, he had been walking nearly 6 hours now, he left Ealdor before daylight broke.  Figured the sooner he could get out, the sooner all of this could be over. As he approached the river, he collapsed down on the nearest rock and opened his waterskin.

 

The cool water was pleasant as it raced against his fingertips.  How long had it been since he had bathed? He could have only been gone a few days from Camelot so far, and yet it already felt like a distant memory.  He closed the waterskin, and splashed the water on his face, reveling in the relief it brought. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, tilting his head back as the scent of mildew calmed his tensed nerves.  

 

Slowly he opened his eyes, the tips of the trees aligning into his sight.  He smiled, imagining what it would be like to see a few dragons flying free above the sky and fairies exploring the layout of the land.  What it would be like to have magical creatures amongst them once again.

 

He felt his throat constrict against itself as he was suddenly flung onto his back.  Merlin reached up to his neck, finding a rope tightening around it. Gasping for air, he clawed at it.  It was dragging him away from the river. He tried to twist himself out of it, the rope slicing and rubbing into his skin, but all it did was make the air even harder to enter into his already trapped esophagus.

 

Suddenly he was no longer being dragged.  A hand grasped into his hair and his offender finally showed themselves as they observed Merlin.

 

“Well, well, look who we have here.” Merlin’s heart stopped.  He knew that sweetly sick voice anywhere, he had just hoped he would hear it when he had the advantage.

 

“Oh, no, don’t look so alarmed.  Aren’t you glad to see your old friend again?”  Morgana knelt in front of him, eyes wild, a smirk plastered across her face.  “Don’t let up on the pressure of that rope. I want to see the light leave his eyes.  Try not to kill him though.”

 

Merlin gasped as one of her followers kept his grasp on the rope.  Merlin couldn’t do anything, if he used his magic he would give it away to Morgana.  The only advantage he had against her was that she underestimated him. But if she killed him, that wouldn’t matter anymore anyway.

 

Dark spots swam in his eyes as he continued to gasp for air.  He tried to grab the man behind him, at Morgana, the rope. The blasted thing needed to get off of him.

 

As the darkness began to take over, Merlin could feel another presence pressing at the edge of his mind.  Someone trying to communicate with him, as it had been the past few days. 

 

Mordred.

 

Merlin kept his mind closed as he started to fall unconscious.  He would not lead the man he loved, the only thing that gave him strength, into a trap.  He fortified the seals on any and all channels he could have to anyone in his mind.

 

It would be for the better.  Even if it meant his doom.

 

Finally, the darkness overtook him, as he heard Morgana yell at her followers to release the airtight grip. 


	8. Impatience

Mordred had been relentlessly trying to get in touch with Merlin.  For a moment he thought he had felt him, a small signal of distress had alerted him.  But as soon as it had appeared it was gone, with absolutely no sign of ever returning.  Mordred was ready to slice anything into pieces that dared cross him, seething at the lost opportunity to track Merlin.

 

He paced as the rest of the knights packed up camp.  “Mordred, would you stop pacing and help us out,” Leon said.

 

Mordred whipped around.  “I’m already packed, it’s you all who are wasting precious time when Merlin might be out there lost and alone.  The sooner we can get to Ealdor the better.” Mordred stomped off towards his horse and heard footsteps follow.

 

“Hey,” Gwaine made a reach for Mordred’s arm, but Mordred was quick and brought it up to the man’s throat.

 

“Don’t ‘hey’ me right now.”

 

Gwaine grunted.  “Relax - not trying - to hurt - you.” Mordred tightened his grip a bit before finally releasing the man, Gwaine coughing as the air violently reentered his lungs.  “Sheesh - I know - you are on edge but - you need to calm down.” 

 

Mordred stared daggers at the man.  “If you tell me to calm down again, I swear to whatever god is listening I will run you through.” Mordred turned towards his horse, tightening the clasps on everything to give his hands something to do other than killing his fellow mates.

 

“Look, we are all tense, we get it.  But please, we are on your side.” Mordred scoffed.  No one was on their side. Merlin was banished with the knowledge that he had magic, and Mordred would be much of the same if they found out about him.  They would never be accepted no matter, what. Each moment that passed he was regretting having the knights join him on his hunt for Merlin.

 

He should have just left and gone himself.  He still had that option. He could just hop on the horse and take off.  They would follow close behind though.

 

Mordred could make sure they didn’t.

 

Arthur approached.  “We are ready. We should make it to Ealdor in a few hours.  Let's get a move on.”

 

Mordred nodded.  _ Oh well _ , he thought.   _ Might as well make the most of their help while it is still offered, might not get any more soon. _

 

They reached Ealdor by midday, and the townsfolk were hovering all around the knights as they entered the village.

 

“It’s Arthur!  Prince Arthur is here!”  One of the villagers shouted, gathering everyone else out of their homes and making a spectacle as the newcomers dismounted their horses.

 

“Hello, everyone.  I’m glad you remember me.”  Arthur waved to the crowd. “Though it is King now.”

 

“Of course we remember you, you bloody well saved our village, we could never repay you, Sire”  One of the men had come forward and now bowed in front of Arthur.

 

“There is no need to repay me, I’m just happy you guys have had peace since.”  Arthur looked around, and Mordred followed his eyesight. He couldn’t find Merlin in the crowd anywhere.

 

“Is there any particular reason you are here, Your Majesty?” the man asked.

 

“Yes, there is in fact.  I was wondering if Merlin was here by any chance?”

 

“You missed him,” a woman’s voice had spoken from the crowd and Mordred looked around to see who it was.  An older woman came forward, her mousey brown hair pinned back, a gentle expression masking a sadness that was apparent in her eyes.  “He left before daybreak came.”

 

“Hunith,” Arthur came forward and stopped a mere foot away from her.  He looked as if he was going to hug her, but he pulled back and bit his lower lip.

 

“Did he tell you what happened?” Mordred heard Arthur murmur. Hunith nodded.

 

“I think it is best if you join me in my home, I can tell you what I know about where Merlin most likely went.”  She turned, and Arthur and Mordred followed, the rest of the knights tailing behind them.

 

They entered her hut, Mordred taking the time to observe it.  It seemed like a nice enough place for a village home. Mordred had grown up constantly on the run, living in tents.  He didn’t have any kind of home when he was a kid. This little quaint area seemed more than a lovely place to live. Merlin must have had a great childhood if all the homes around here were like that.

 

“Hunith, what did your son tell you about what happened?”

 

Mordred shot up, standing ramrod tall as he took in the woman’s appearance again.  He hadn’t realized that was Merlin’s mother. He was at a loss for words. No wonder Merlin was so caring and self-sacrificial.  His mother seemed to be the epitome of caring and sweet, someone who gave back to the community more than anyone he had come across, and he grew up around the Druids whose lives were based around those principles.  She had such a loving energy around her, it filled her home. Mordred smiled, finally knowing where Merlin got all his wonderful traits from.

 

“He told me that he told you he had magic.  That you banished him.” She looked at Arthur, but Mordred didn’t see any hatred there.  Only sadness. “He thinks that he will never be accepted and that despite the fact that he can’t help you fulfill your destiny next to your side, he will fulfill yours and his destiny from afar.  No matter what the cost.” A tear streamed down her face as Mordred took in what she was referring to.

 

If Merlin was fulfilling his destiny, that meant there was only one thing on his mind to do.

 

“He went after Morgana, didn’t he?” Mordred tried to keep his voice level as Arthur and Hunith turned to look at him.  He hadn’t realized the other knights were still outside the hut. He didn’t care if it was disrespectful of him to be in here, he needed to know.  Needed to know where his other half went.

 

Hunith nodded.  “He is planning on finding her and fighting her himself, I presume.  He made it sound as if he wouldn’t come back.”

 

Nausea overcame Mordred.  He knew Morgana was powerful, but he also knew who Merlin was.  Merlin was the warlock prophesied to bring Albion together. He did not possess magic.  He was magic. Immortal. Emrys. And if Emrys couldn’t fulfill the prophecy, he would die trying.  And if he couldn’t die, as he and Merlin were beginning to recently wonder, he would suffer a thousand deaths trying.

 

Mordred collapsed on the bench nearest to him.  He wanted to strangle Merlin himself. That idiot always went in head first, never thought about the consequences.  Never had a plan. Never had a backup plan. Always thinking of others. Mordred wanted to flip the table, throw something across the room.  They had come here expecting to find Merlin, just to be told he was most likely marching to his death.

 

He felt a soft hand rest against his shoulder.  He looked up to see Hunith, giving him a reassuring glance as she continued to address Arthur.  “I assume you are finding him in the hopes of bringing him back home.”

 

Arthur hesitated.  “I don’t know yet. I am seeking him because I didn’t let him tell his side.  I need to hear from him why he has been loyal to me all these years. Why he did the things he did, why he kept his secret hidden from me.  If I can understand that, then maybe I can look into everything regarding magic a bit more.” 

 

It was Mordred’s turn to look surprised.  He didn’t know Arthur was considering lifting the ban on magic now. He figured this was merely a witch hunt, that when they found Merlin and Merlin talked to them, it would just be a ‘don’t ever use magic in the kingdom again but we will let you back because you are you.’  Mordred didn’t know what to think as the conversation continued.

 

“Merlin will appreciate that when he sees you.  He feels he has left his home and has nothing to come back to.  He misses you all greatly, I can see it in his eyes.” Hunith squeezed Mordred’s shoulder a bit, and Mordred got the feeling she knew more than what she was letting on.  “You all may spend the night here, rest up a bit before your journey to find him tomorrow. I believe he was heading into the woods towards Lot’s castle now.”

 

Mordred shot up.  “Then there is no time to waste, Morgana could get him at any second.  She isn’t exactly the type who will give up an opportunity to kill, or worse yet, torture the man who is closest to Arthur, the one who knows Camelot inside and out.  We can’t stop here and rest, we need to find him.” 

 

“Mordred,” Arthur said.  “She is right. We need to rest.  Gather as many supplies as we can.  Help out the villagers a bit, it’s the least I can do since I was here last.”  Arthur walked over to Mordred, resting his hand on his shoulder. “We will find him, I promise.  Thank you Hunith, for everything. I am sorry this is how we had to meet again.”

 

“I just hope it will all work out.  For all of you. Please find him and take care of him.”

 

Arthur nodded and turned to leave.  Mordred began to follow until he heard his name.

 

“Mordred,” Hunith said.  Mordred turned around to Hunith’s warm smile.  “Merlin told me about you two.” 

 

Mordred looked at the floor, flustered.  “I do not know what you mean.”

 

Hunith walked over to him, talking in a low voice.  “He loves you, you know.” Mordred raised his eyes to meet hers, seeing no animosity there.  No hatred. Nothing but loving acceptance. “He believes you hate him for him not telling you what happened.  He didn’t think you would come after him.”

 

The sickness continued to grip his guts as he told her how he felt.  “I could never hate your son. He has only ever shown compassion. He has a big heart, one that gets him into trouble more times than I can count.  And while I was angry that he did leave without telling me, and he does upset me when he becomes self-sacrificial, I could never hate him. I love him with my whole being and I will walk to the ends of the Earth to find him and see him grin his beautiful grin again.”  He wasn’t sure if that was too forward, but Merlin’s mother seemed quite nice and she deserved to know that someone cared about her son more than her son cared about himself.

 

Hunith smiled. “You are a lovely man, Mordred.  I’m glad the two of you met.” She looked over his shoulder before continuing, her voice lowered.  “He also told me you have magic as well.”

 

Mordred hitched his breath, looking over his shoulder as well to make sure the other knights weren’t there.  He turned back around and talked in a hushed whisper. “Yes, I do. I grew up amongst the Druids and learned magic from them, as well as the ability to form telepathy links with anyone.  I have been trying to sense his magic, trying to connect to him via our link, but I haven’t picked up on anything. I thought I did earlier, but there is nothing left of the signal. I’m worried and pulling my hair out thinking he is hurt, bleeding out, dying and I’m not there to help him.  I’m doing everything I can.” Mordred’s eyes watered, but he steeled himself against it. He wasn’t going to let himself show weakness in front of Merlin’s mother.

 

She rubbed her hand up and down his arm.  “I know you will find him. It will be alright.  You mean more to him than you realize.” She turned around as she began to get dinner ready.  “Thank you for being there for him. You two deserve each other. I wish you both well.”

 

Mordred stood stunned.  Merlin’s mother had just accepted them.  Mordred and Merlin having magic. Merlin and Mordred, together.  He was overwhelmed by the mixture of emotions rising in him. “Thank you,” he muttered, turning to leave, attempting to get himself under control.

 

They spent the rest of the day helping the village, planning which route to take and if they needed to split up, how and where in order to find Merlin the fastest.  Mordred just hoped that they wouldn’t be too late when they did find him.


	9. Wake Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Beginnings of verbal abuse and non-con elements

There was a steady drip nearby.  Merlin tried to open his eyes, but they were crusted shut.  His head lolled to one side, his arms sore. He tried to move his head, only for it to flop to the other side.  Fire shot through his shoulders, causing him to snap his head up and open his eyes. The rest of his body finally woke up, only for Merlin to find that his arms had been chained above his head and were forcing him to stand, his feet barely reaching the ground.  He groaned as he tried to move to a more comfortable position, but his heels couldn’t touch the floor, and every muscle he moved in his shoulders either seized up or protested and remained still. Finally aware of the situation he was in, he looked around the room.

 

Morgana was over in the corner, hanging something dripping in black liquid, now watching Merlin with hawk-like eyes.

 

“Well, well, have a nice nap, princess?” She taunted.  Merlin struggled against his chains. His blood was boiling at the joy she was taking in of the situation.  

 

“What do you want, Morgana?”  

 

Morgana studied him for a bit.  “It doesn’t matter what I want. I will get it eventually.  All that matters is the route I decide to take.” She let go of the fistful of straw she was hanging, swinging it a bit so that Merlin could see it in the small rays of light that creaked through the cells.  

 

Mandrakes.  Morgana was hanging mandrakes.  And not just one. Merlin looked around the room again, taking in every detail he could.  He noticed dozens littering the ceiling, dripping against the cold stone floor. Mortified, he steeled himself as he continued to address Morgana.

 

“Wow, all of this for me?  I’m just a lowly servant. What could you want so badly that you are willing to drive a servant mad?”

 

Morgana stalked closer to him, each deliberate clank of her heels reverberating off the walls.  Only when she was breathing down Merlin’s neck did she finally speak.

 

“It’s simple, really.”  Her voice lilted as it used to when she was poking fun at Arthur.  Merlin didn’t think it quite suited her anymore. “You and Gaius are quite close.  If Gaius knows who Emrys is, then surely you know as well. You two never really keep secrets from each other, now, do you?”

 

Merlin tried not to show his panic in his eyes.  He would take his secret to his grave if it meant that she was still scared of the possible alliance between Arthur and Emrys after his death.  Anything that could give Arthur the advantage. 

 

“You can do whatever the hell you want to me,” Merlin spat.  “You will never know who Emrys is. Arthur will defeat you and rule what is rightfully his, and you will rot away in these godforsaken lands, name forgotten to all.”  

 

“Why do you protect him!” Morgana’s nose was only inches from his now, her voice echoing in the cell.  

 

“Because,” Merlin said, “he is the light that will unite the lands.  You are the dark that threatens to tear it all apart.”

 

The slap Morgana gave him resonated in the room, a sharp sting burning on his cheek. “You do not understand, boy.  Arthur will never be accepting of magic. What kind of united land is that?”

 

Merlin looked at her cheekily, knowing his banter was always going to be the end of him.

 

“I told you, Arthur is the light.  You are not. I will not follow darkness no matter how seductive it is.”

 

Morgana pulled back, before snickering and smirked.  “That’s what you think.” She turned and marched out the door.  “Have fun trying to resist it.” She looked back. “You are the closest person to Arthur there is, maybe even closer than Guinevere.  Sooner or later you will break, you will be nothing but a shell to do my bidding. And please, do lose your mind fast. I have a bet I would like to win.  Thanks.” With that, she slammed the door, a lock crashing into place. 

 

Merlin sighed.  All he had to do was get through the tortures of his own mind if the mandrakes were the only thing she had in this room.  He had done that many times before, his mind haunted him every day. A little hallucination along with the usual wasn’t going to break him.

 

His stomach rumbled.  He didn’t know how long he had been unconscious for.  His throat was raw from the rope that had wrapped around it earlier and the dehydration now hitting him.  The last time he ate and had water couldn’t have been more than a few hours ago. He wasn’t sure though.

 

After a subsequent amount of time had passed, Merlin figured Morgana wasn’t around watching and listening anymore.  He looked up at the beam where the chain his hands were in looped over. Eyes flashing gold, he tried to break the chains, only to have them tightened around his wrists further.  

 

“Shit.” If the chains were enchanted, there wasn’t much that was going to be able to break them.  He would need Kilgharrah and he didn’t know where the hell he was or if Kilgharrah could even reach him.  He looked at the beam. He could try to break that, but it would make quite the racket. He would have to hope that there weren’t many guards outside his cell, if there were any at all.  Looking back up at the beam, his eyes flashed gold again as he thought of it breaking, only to have the chains tighten around his wrists further. He sucked in a breath, any tighter and the chains would start tearing through his skin.  He looked around frantically. The beams seemed supported by a pillar, maybe if he brought down the pillar. The chains tightened around his wrists. The floor? Chains tightened. He felt blood streaming down towards his armpits. 

 

“No, no, no.”  The only thing left in the room was the bars on the slim window and the door.  He tried out of desperation to blast open both of them, only to have the chains tighten around his wrists, cutting into the tissue.

 

“Shhhit.” He could feel the chain begin to press on his bones.   _ Either this room is enchanted, or the chains are absorbing any kind of magic I throw out here _ .  He thought about lighting a fire in his hands, and the chains cut through more tissue.

 

“Ah, fuck!” Merlin began to panic.  His pulse started pumping.  _ I can’t use any of my magic _ , he thought.   _ I can’t break out of here.  Shit, how the hell do I defeat her tied up like this? _

 

The more he tried to formulate a plan, the more and more he realized there was no way out of this.

 

He got caught.  He was trapped. And now, he was going to pay the price for it.

 

He stopped struggling.  Blood continued to ooze from his wrists, dripping off his armpits and shoulder blades onto the floor.  He wasn’t about to give Morgana the satisfaction of him crying. No matter how hopeless this situation was, he wasn’t going to do it.

 

He had just wished that he had one more chance to see Mordred.

 

Merlin hung his head.  His arms seared at the movement.  He wished he could at least do a bit of magic to relieve himself of the pain.  If his fate was to die here, he wished he could at least make it pain-free for himself.

 

A rustle behind him startled him out of his thoughts and he whipped his head around, the chains keeping their pressure on his bones. “Gah, dammit!” he shouted.  “Who is there?!” 

 

Nothing.  Dead silence, except for the heavy breaths coming out of Merlin’s nostrils.  He stared at the corner the noise had come from before his body decided it couldn’t hold that position anymore.  He turned back around, coming face to face with Uther.

 

“Fuck!”  He tried to scramble back, only managing to pull his arms further out of their arm sockets. “Ah, what...what...no, you are dead.  This isn’t you.”

 

“I knew you were a traitor this whole time,” Uther sneered.  Merlin scoffed.  _  Is this the best you have brain?  This will be bearable if this is all the mandrakes have in them. _

 

“Yeah yeah, you knew I had magic, whoopee freaking do.  Not like you were the first.” Merlin retorted back to the startling real image of Uther that had appeared in front of him.  He looked just as he had when he ruled, long red cape, crown on his head, crows feet lining his eyes. Strong and sure, he looked ready to ride out into battle in a moments notice.  Nothing like the dying Uther Merlin had last encountered.

 

“No, he wasn’t.”  Merlin stilled.  _ No, oh no, please don’t do this to me. _ _ Why did I have to ask if this was the best my brain had.   _ Merlin turned his head to his left, revealing the image of Gaius.  

 

“No, you are not real,”  Merlin said. “I won’t believe anything you all say.  I know you aren’t real.”

 

“You don’t have to believe anything I say, Merlin,” Gaius said.  “But it isn’t like you have the ability to cover your ears now, do you?  You will still have to hear it.”

 

“No, I won’t listen.”  Merlin ground his teeth together.  He wasn’t going to let his mind get to him.  This wasn’t going to go the way Morgana was hoping.  He could do this.

 

“Isn’t that like you?  Never listened. Sometimes I wish you hadn’t come through my door all those years ago.  You should have stayed in Ealdor. You shouldn’t have ever been born. Uther should have executed you.  You have always been a worthless, waste of space.” 

 

“You are not real,”  Merlin repeated to himself.  He had to keep repeating it. They weren’t real, they weren’t going to get to him.

 

“Oh, and you thought you were destined to help Arthur!”  Gaius was next to Merlin now, waving his hands in his face.  “Look where you bloody are now! Think you helped Arthur by getting yourself caught in this trap?  What if he comes looking for you? His death will be on your shoulders, Merlin. His life, your responsibility.”

 

“You.  Are. Not.  Real.” Merlin spat at him.

 

“No, we aren’t,” and Merlin’s breath hitched.  He refused to acknowledge Freya’s voice, as it continued to talk to him, coming around from behind him.  “But you know the real us have these feelings deep down. We just never tell you, never told you.” She stood in front of him now, and Merlin choked back a sob as he kept repeating to himself, “you aren’t real.”

 

“Merlin, why did you do it?  Why did you let me die? Was I not good enough for you?  Was Arthur really that important to you? Heh, you thought I would repay you back later?  Why would I repay back the person who essentially killed me?”

 

“No, Freya, no, I didn’t,” Merlin pleaded.  He might have been able to handle Uther and Gaius but to hear Freya voice the demons that had haunted him since her death was more than he could chew.  “That was never supposed to happen. We were supposed to continue our lives elsewhere, away from it all.”

 

Gaius spoke up again.  “So you were going to just abandon me?!  Abandon your king?! Uther is right, you are a traitor!”

 

“And now you will rot here in this cell, knowing all that you did to deserve this.”  Uther’s voice rang in Merlin’s head. 

“No, no you are all wrong.  All of you!” 

 

“Merlin.”  Merlin shut his eyes, how many more were going to come to him?  Leon continued to speak, “such a coward, always running away from his duties.  Always running from the fight. Hiding behind a mask, and hiding there for so long, he couldn’t even bring himself to reveal the truth of what he was.  A sorcerer. A murderer.”

 

“No, Leon, I am not a murderer.”

 

“But you are, aren’t you?” Elyan spoke.  

 

“You got our father killed,” Gwen accused.

 

“No, I was trying to save him, I didn’t think they would find anything.”  Merlin sobbed, nothing came out of his eyes, but he couldn’t hold back the choked sounds any longer.

 

“Liar!” Gwen and Elyan shouted.

 

“I thought I knew you, Merlin.” Gwaine.

 

“I thought you were brave and compassionate.” Lancelot.

 

“But in the end we were wrong.” Percival.

 

“Guys, no, you don’t understand!”  Merlin tried to get a grip on himself.  “No, why am I responding to you. None of you are real.  This isn’t real. You are all just in my head.”

 

“Well, that’s one fucked up head.”  Merlin’s heart constricted as Arthur came into view.  

 

“Arthur, no, I can explain, I can -.” 

 

“Why would I want  _ you _ to explain anything?”  Arthur broke the circle that had formed around Merlin, stepping towards him with sure steps.  “I banished you, for a reason. Did that not get into your ‘fucked up’ head? You are evil. Magic is evil.  I don’t care what you thought of us, but I lost my friend the day I learned that he committed treason. Were you planning on taking my throne like Morgana?”

 

“What, no Arthur, why would you say that? I would never -.”

 

“Because she did!” Arthur slapped Merlin’s face, refreshing the sting that Morgana had just placed there.  Merlin hadn’t thought the hallucinations could do anything to him. Frightened out of his wits, Merlin tried to shrink back into his shoulders as much as he could. “She tried to take the damn throne from me!  Why not you as well?! Huh?”

 

“Arthur, you don’t mean that.  You don’t mean that -.”

 

“I should have killed you myself.”  Arthur’s menacing glare fixated on Merlin’s eyes.  “I rue the day you were born. I should have executed you.  Burned you. Watched the light slowly leave your eyes.” Merlin was hyperventilating now.  

 

“Arthur,” but he couldn’t say anything else.  He closed his eyes as he let the badgering from everyone continue.   _ It isn’t real, think of everything they have done for you.  They sacrificed themselves for you when they didn’t need to.  They adored you. It was alright, even if I was banished, they never meant harm.  They never did.  _

 

“Look at what a sad, pitiful sight you have become.”  Merlin retched at the sound of the new voice, dry heaving as nothing was in his stomach to vomit.  He thought this was the worst of it. The mandrakes would stop here, and leave it at this. 

 

He hadn’t wanted his worst fears of Mordred to appear in front of him.

 

“My, my.  How did I ever fall for such a stupid, pathetic worm like yourself.”  Merlin kept his head down.  _ No, it isn’t him, this isn’t him, none of his is real, none of this is real, dammit Merlin.  _

 

“What, no response?  No ‘oh, I’ve missed you so much, Mordred!’  Nothing?” Merlin heard Mordred’s footsteps approach and his body tensed.  This wasn’t right. None of this was right.

 

He saw Mordred’s feet shift back and forth before his head was violently lifted, and the pale blue eyes he learned to adore stared at him, stone cold.

 

“Nothing.  You said absolutely nothing when you left.  How could you?” He threw Merlin’s head down, Merlin gasping for air.  He couldn’t do this. He needed to get out.

 

“How could you Merlin!  I thought I meant everything to you?  So you just, what? Thought you’d tell me you were on a quest?  Make me think you would be back? Just, abandon me?” Merlin whined, he didn’t know what answer to give.   _ This isn’t Mordred, you don’t have to give an answer. _

 

Merlin felt a shin impact his gut.  He spluttered and coughed as the pressure on his shoulders pressed down even more and his feet tried to find the floor again.  “Answer me, Merlin!”

 

Merlin finally looked up.  Mordred’s face contorted with rage, he no longer looked like the magnificent angel that had once been bestowed upon Merlin.

 

_ No _ , Merlin thought.   _ Mordred was prophesied to be Arthur’s killer.  And instead, he will end up being mine _ . 

 

“I don’t have an answer for you.  You aren’t my Mordred.” Mordred looked vicious as he approached Merlin, and Merlin tried to scurry back as much as he could.

 

Mordred raised a fist, Merlin closed his eyes and braced for impact.  None came though. Instead, he felt gentle hands wrap around his torso, and the gap closed between him and the illusion.  

 

“No,” Mordred whispered into his ear.  “Me being upset isn’t what you were worried about at all.”  His breath tickled Merlin’s ear and heated his neck. “You expected it.  You fear something else.” Mordred’s hands started moving down Merlin’s waist.  “The side you never wanted to see come true.” Merlin froze. This was wrong. This was so wrong.  He had once been scared Mordred might snap. That he might use his physical strength against Merlin in this manner.  But Merlin trusted the real Mordred, knew he would never do this, knew this wasn’t him. This Mordred wasn’t his Mordred.

 

“No, no, get the fuck off of me.”  Merlin tried to scramble out of Mordred’s grasp, but Mordred shoved him closer and forced Merlin into a stomach-knotting kiss, Mordred forcing his tongue down Merlin’s throat.  In a last-ditch effort, Merlin kneed Mordred in the groin and raised his foot to kick him back as far as he could.

 

Mordred looked ready to kill, and Merlin couldn’t do it anymore.  Out of sheer panic, he pushed away all the images with his magic, the images finally disappearing, the chains pressing further onto the bones in his wrist, and leaving Merlin to choke on what little saliva he had as he tried to shake loose and forget the hallucinations that had appeared.


	10. Spiraling

They had left Ealdor at first light, heading into the forest in the direction of Lot’s castle.  Mordred was restless, he wanted the horses to go faster. Every small movement he saw could be Merlin, or even better, one of Morgana’s henchmen.  Mordred was itching to beat someone up, and what better way to do so than to force information out of them.

 

“Mordred, if you keep whipping around at every small noise in this forest, you are going to give yourself whiplash,” Gwaine’s usual jocular-self remarked. 

 

Mordred couldn’t believe he was spewing jokes at a time like this.  “Don’t you think it would be better if we paid more attention to our surroundings than trying to think up your next awful joke for your victims?”  Mordred fidgeted with his ring, the sooner Merlin was in his arms and where he could see him, the better. They couldn’t afford to not be vigilant.

 

“Relax, kid.  Being high strung isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

 

“And neither is being an unobservant, incompetent fool.”

 

“Hey,” Arthur shouted, turning his head behind him.  “Enough, both of you. Mordred, bring it down a few notches.  Gwaine, shut up for once in your life.” With that, the party moved on silently, looking for any signs that a lightweight servant had passed through the area.  

 

“There’s water up ahead, maybe we should stop and refill.  We don’t know these lands and we might as well be prepared,” Elyan said.

 

“If we stop, we waste time finding Merlin,” Mordred stated.

 

“We can’t go on constantly without supplies, we aren’t exactly good to him if we are weak or dead,” Elyan retorted.

 

“We just stopped to have a break in a town.  We’ve only been out half the day, at the rate we are going, Merlin could be double the distance we are at.  And he’s on  _ foot _ .”  Mordred wasn’t having it anymore, they couldn’t blasted well treat this expedition like one of their hunting games.

 

“Mordred, did you not hear me when I said take it down a few notches?” Arthur was glowering at him.  For the sake of his own sanity, Mordred shut it. “We will stop at the river to fill up, only for a few moments, and then we will continue on our trek.”

 

Mordred stared defiantly at the rest of the group in front of him.   _ Blasted imbeciles _ , he thought.   _ They could never even imagine where Merlin could be, he could be strung upside down and be sliced apart for breakfast right this moment and it wouldn’t speed them up.  I shouldn’t have agreed to this, I should have just freaking left and gone on my own. _

 

They got to the river and dismounted, Mordred steadily observing their surroundings as the rest of the group headed towards it.  Mordred closed his eyes and tried to reach out to Merlin through their connection. Merlin was still silent.

 

He ground his teeth together.  This was idiotic. They had used that connection for so long, it’s strength outnumbered any telepathic connection Mordred had with anyone, even his own dad.  Why could he not, for the life of him, reach Merlin through it now? Was Merlin that determined to forget him, to leave him be? 

 

Mordred started to stalk over to the nearest tree to exact his frustration on it when he heard Percival call out.

 

“Hey guys, I think I found something.”

 

Mordred took a deep breath, steadying his nerves.   _ This better be good _ , he thought. 

 

He walked over to where the rest of the knights were gathering.  A large streak of dirt had been brushed to the sides as if something had been dragged through the ground.  Towards the end, the imprint winded. A struggle.

 

Mordred looked up at Arthur and could tell he came to the same conclusions.  “It looks like we weren’t the first ones to think to fill up our skins here,”  Arthur said.

 

“You think it’s Merlin?” Leon asked.

 

“Who else could it bloody be?” Mordred said.  “Who else would be violently dragged through the dirt like that?  And who do you think most likely has him now, judging by how bad the scuffle probably ended?”

 

“It could be anyone, bandits coming to pickpocket, just one of their victims didn’t get so lucky,”  Elyan said. Mordred had just about had it. He grasped his head and looked up at the sky, wishing his worst fears weren’t coming true.

 

“Listen to yourselves!  Don’t you think we’ve wasted enough time here?  If Morgana has him now, we need to figure out where the hell she is.  We need to ride for the castle, the nearest town, anywhere where they might know and get him!”  Mordred was shouting, his fists clenched as he tried to get his point across.

 

“Mordred, we might not need to do that,” Arthur said.  Mordred just about laughed. Of course it was Arthur that would try his best to stop this quest from ever coming to fruition.

 

“Why?  I thought you came here to find Merlin, to have him explain to you why he kept his magic from you.  So why are you so willing to let him die now?”

 

“I’m not, Mordred,” Arthur stared at him.  “But I’m more certain they know how to find Morgana than any townsfolk in the region are.”

 

Mordred thought Arthur might have finally gone mad when he glanced to where he was pointing and saw unfamiliar faces surrounding them.  When they arrived, Mordred wasn’t sure. But he knew these people well, the Druids were always a place of refuge for him.

 

He let out a breath of relief as the Druid leader of this group came forward.  “We do not wish you harm, we only wish to know why it is warriors of Camelot are here in Essetir?” the leader asked.  

 

Arthur came forward to meet him.  “I am King Arthur, and these are my most trusted knights.  We have come here in the hopes of finding someone who is dear to us.  He came through these woods, he could have only been through here the past few days.  We believe he may have been taken by the Lady Morgana. Have you seen such a man pass through these forests, or know of the whereabouts of Morgana?”

 

Mordred eyed the Druid leader.  He wasn’t sure if he would like the answer.   If they saw him here, then they might have seen when Merlin was taken, and they didn’t do anything to stop Morgana.  While he couldn’t have blamed them for being fearful of her, he was far from forgiving them for letting the one they knew as Emrys be captured.

 

“We did not see the young man, though we do know of him.  If he is with Morgana, that is of grave danger.” The Druid leader looked at Mordred and Mordred could feel the beginnings of a telepathic link forming.  “Come with us, we will discuss this further with you back at our camp.”

 

“You can’t tell us now?” Arthur asked.

 

“I could, but these forests are roaming with her men, along with Lot’s knights.  I doubt you want to spend the time you could be using to find your friend to fight off either of them.”

 

Arthur nodded.  “Then lead the way.”  As they hiked off towards the Druid camp, Mordred conversed with the leader through the new connection.

 

_ How is it that Emrys is now in the hands of Morgana?  _ the leader asked.

 

_ Arthur discovered he had magic and banished him, a step below the laws of Camelot, which still hold execution to be the ultimate sentence. _

 

_ You have a strong connection with Emrys, I can tell the link is quite strong.  Has he cut off his side of the line then? _

 

Mordred hesitated, that bordered on a privacy breach in Mordred’s opinion.  Plus, he didn’t want to admit it, but the longer Merlin was out of communication with him, the more probable that truth was, and it still didn’t sit well with him.   _ Most likely.  He hadn’t told me he was being banished, I just woke up one day to the news with no way to reach him. _

 

The rest of the trip was spent in silence.  When they finally got to the caves where the Druids dwelled, the leader finally spoke to him again.

 

_ I am sorry.  I can tell it has affected you dearly.  But if we want to find him and make sure he will be alright to fulfill the prophecies, then your link with him is the best chance we have. _

 

Mordred hated that the Druids were only helping because Merlin was Emrys.  If it was any other sorcerer, he was sure he would have to beg the Druids a bit before they finally decided to help him out.   _ Arthur doesn’t know about my magic and I prefer to keep it that way due to the recent events. I’m not sure how he will react knowing I have magic as well. _

 

_ Well, I can try to help you out and guide you through this connection, while the other Druids help explain to Arthur the likes of Morgana. _

 

_ That will be too suspicious.  I am good at keeping a straight face in these conversations, I will stick by the knights while you help me out. _

 

As they all began to enter the leader’s tent, the leader rested his hand on Mordred’s shoulder.  Mordred looked up at the man, who nodded in acknowledgment.

 

_ Very well, if that is what you wish. _

 

Mordred nodded.   _ Thank you. _

 

They all settled themselves down in the tent as best as they could, Mordred focusing on rekindling his connection with Merlin as the Druids began to answer Arthur’s questions.


	11. Gift for You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Physical torture in this chapter, somewhat graphic

Merlin had been going in and out of consciousness.  He didn’t know how long he had been here for, it felt like only an hour, it felt like weeks.  He lost feeling in his arms the last time he woke up, certain that if he ever made it out of here alive he was going to have to amputate them due to the most likely infection he would get in his wrists and the loss of circulation in his arms he had been experiencing.  

 

He had been trying to fight Mordred off of him each time he was awake.  One way or another, Mordred would pop up by him, touching him, feeling him, taunting him.  The only way he was successful in getting this warped image of his lover away from him was using magic.  It was only a matter of time before the chains completely cut through his wrists.

 

_ Maybe I should let it, _ he thought.   _ Even if I get out of here with no hands, I can at least get out of the chains.   _ He thought a bit more and realized how stupid that idea was. _  I would die of blood loss before I made it out of the cell.  I’m already starved and dehydrated, wouldn’t be much good to lose blood. _

 

“You should just tell her, you know,” Mordred’s voice rang through the room.  “She might end it faster if you just tell her.” 

 

Merlin chuckled, no trace of humor in the sound.  “It wouldn’t matter either way. She wants a mindless servant to do her bidding.  The only thing I have to gain by not telling her is the satisfaction that she never got the information she wanted, and only the hope that she believes Emrys is still helping Arthur.”

 

“That’s quite an idiotic thing to hope for,” Mordred said.

 

“It’s all I’ve got,” Merlin continued looking at the floor.  He heard the footsteps slowly approach him, and he braced himself for the inevitable shot of pain that was going to spike down his arms in retaliation to his magic.

 

The door to the cell swung open, and Merlin heard a couple sets of footsteps march into the room.   _ Oh joy, what pleasure will this lot bring today? _

 

He felt his head get tugged back violently and suddenly cold water was pouring down his throat.  He didn’t have time to swallow it before some of it went down his windpipe. He spit out what had gone down, snapping his head forward with his throat burning as he gasped for the air he had just been denied.  He tried to lift his head, it was the first he had tasted water since he had been here, but his neck no longer wanted to support the weight of his head. 

 

“Water, please,” Merlin begged.

 

“No,” Morgana had entered the room with the guard who had practically drowned Merlin.  “If you don’t like what we give, then you don’t get any more.”

 

Merlin scoffed. “Sorry if I like to drink my water instead of inhaling it.”

 

“Well that’s your problem, not mine now, is it not?”  The clank of her heels echoed as she drew nearer to Merlin.  “So, have you decided to tell me who Emrys is yet?” She knelt in front of him.

 

Merlin spit in her face. “Fuck you,” he said.  Morgana carefully raised one of her delicate hands to her face, wiping the spit off.  She glanced at her hand for a minute, and then Merlin felt a sharp pain slash across his cheek as the back of her hand slapped him.

 

“Guess you haven’t broken down as fast as we would have liked, hmm?”  She stood up pacing in front of Merlin. Her heels and the sound of her dress dragging along the cold floor filled the room until finally she settled back in front of Merlin.

 

“You have magic.”  Merlin tensed. He should have realized fighting the chains would give him away.  Morgana started chuckling, the noise building up until she was laughing so hard Merlin’s ears hurt from the echoes.  “Oh man, this is too good. No wonder you always got out of the most perilous situations. Merlin, the savior of Arthur.  Let me guess, Arthur never found out? That’s why you are able to be so goody toe shoes with him.” Morgana knelt in front of Merlin again, coming into his eyesight.  “Tell me then, why would you ever protect the very person who would have you executed if he knew the real you?”

 

Merlin looked at her, glad she hadn’t drawn the connection between him and Emrys yet.  “And what do you call this, Your Highness?” he spat sarcastically.

 

She slapped him again.  “You won’t fight for your own benefit.  You are one hell of a masochist, I must say.  Always doing Arthur’s bidding with the constant threat of death.  Here you are taking this, all for his benefit. What a waste of talent.”  She pulled out a dagger from her belt, aiming the point of the blade under Merlin’s chin, the point just breaking the skin.  “Tell me who Emrys is.”

 

“Never would I help you, you self-serving bitch.”

 

“Merlin, just tell her, the sooner you do it the better,” the image of Mordred knelt next to Morgana. 

 

Merlin looked at Mordred.  “No, I won’t.”

 

Morgana, seeing Merlin’s line of sight shift next to her, looked to her side to see no one there.  She smirked, turning back to Merlin. “Oh, I see the mandrakes are still at play. Wonderful, who has stuck around that has been tormenting you all this time?  Got to be someone or something hefty if it is still coming to bother you.”

 

“No one.” Merlin set his jaw, staring right into Morgana’s eyes.  

 

“Oh, don’t be like that.  It won’t matter if you tell me anyway, you’re bound to slip up given your mental state.”  Merlin was afraid she might be right, but more than he cared about her knowing of Emrys was her knowing about Mordred.  Morgana and Mordred hadn’t seen each other in years, the last time ending with Mordred stabbing her in the back. He had hoped after all this time it would end up being ‘out of sight out of mind with her.’  He would not allow her to harm him in any way, especially due to his own faults.

 

“Go to Hell,”  Merlin said, a finality in his voice.

 

Morgana’s eyes widened in rage.  “Very well.” She pulled back from him, pulling a vial of out of a pouch.  “If you are going to be like that, I will guarantee you won’t come out of this the same.”  She poured the substance over the dagger, muttering incantations as the contents were absorbed into it.  Merlin listened to the wording, trying to figure out what she had in store for him next, but he was having trouble concentrating on anything anymore.  His mind wanted to rest, his body wanted a release from this torment. He could feel his whole physical being, exhausted, trying to shut itself down. 

 

Once again, Morgana came into his line of sight.  “You will regret not telling me after this. Do you want to know what this is?”  She waved the dagger in front of him, though the blade now looked as if it were liquid obsidian, contorting to whatever form the magic wanted it to take.  Merlin didn’t bother answering, he figured she’d explain regardless if he did. “This will extract the magic out of you. Tear it out of your body, piece by piece.  It was often used to determine who were witches and wizards in the Great Purge. It was a great tool for them. If you had magic, not only would you react to it, but the pain and trauma were often so much it killed those it entered.”  Merlin swallowed, his throat thickening and heart contracting. “It can enter the body in any which way, I just thought this might be more fun.” Insanity cascaded every inch of her face as Merlin could see her anticipating the reaction she would get.  

 

Merlin’s breaths became rapid.  If that was true, then not only would he most likely die, he would suffer longer than any other sorcerer under this.  He didn’t know if he would even die from such a weapon, he might go on suffering indefinitely. After all, he wasn’t just a sorcerer.  He was magic itself. He wasn’t ready for this, he tried to grasp onto any control he had with his magic. If Morgana wasn’t suspicious of his true identity yet, she will be if his magic reacts strongly to this.  If he doesn’t die from it.

 

He thought of his connection to Mordred.  If he lost control of his blockades, there was a chance Mordred would experience this as well given how strong their link was.

 

Merlin tried to seal any and all connections he had to Mordred as Morgana spoke. “Let’s have a spin with this, shall we?” She proceeded to stab the dagger deep into his leg.

 

It was no use.  The second the dagger entered, he lost all of his control.  His cells felt like they were being sliced apart, his brain tried to seep out of his eyes and ears, screams filled the room.  Nothing filled his mind except the excruciating pain radiating out of him. Needles pricked at every square inch of his body, a fever overtook him, he was shivering, his organs collapsed and expanded, his brain melting, expanding, collapsing, again and again, his throat raw as he continued to scream.  

 

If he were ever to go to Hell, it would be a blessing compared to this.

 

It never ended, his body tried to rid itself of the magic, and the magic kept re-entering.  He knew he was crying, pleading, but he didn’t know if the words made it out.

 

Finally, the pain sharply subsided, as the dagger left his leg.  His stomach convulsed and blood seeped out of his nose as he threw up crimson.  His ragged breaths were all that was heard before Morgana lifted his chin to meet her eyes and she spoke.

 

“Care to tell me who Emrys is now, Merlin?  And please, don’t lie.” She said sweetly.

 

Merlin gasped, coughed up a bit more blood before the words finally retched themselves out.

 

“Never.”

 

Morgana frowned.  “Well then, enjoy your time in eternal suffering.”

 

She stabbed the dagger into his other leg, the pain overtaking him.  As she left, Merlin continued to scream, writhing under the dark magic, his body convulsing in the chains as darkness began to swim in front of his eyes, and unconsciousness finally overtook him.


	12. Empathetic Receival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Visions of torture

Mordred sighed and let his head fall into his hands.  They had been trying everything. He tried to think of good memories of Merlin and relate them to the connection, the first memory of meeting him, memories that had strong emotions attached, whether good or bad.  He tried to send his magic out through it, tried to remember the feeling of Merlin’s magic and reassociate the link with that. Nothing was working, and every time he felt a small pulse, a small glimmer of hope that he might have succeeded, it was closed off again.  

 

He had been trying everything and Merlin wasn’t closer to being found than when he started.  

 

_ I need a break, I’m going outside _ , he told the Druid leader. The leader nodded to him as Mordred got up and made his way out of the tent.  He didn’t care if he interrupted whatever it was the Druids and Arthur were talking about, he needed to step outside before he flipped one of their pots into the fire pit. 

 

“Mordred, are you alright?” he heard Arthur ask.  Mordred turned around, unable to mask the fatigue and misery eating him.  

 

“Yes, I just need to step out for some fresh air, I am sorry if I interrupted the conversation, Sire.”  Arthur eyed him a bit before nodding to dismiss him, and Mordred stepped out. 

 

He looked around at the camp.  It was a bit larger than the ones he had been at in Camelot, he guessed more Druids lived in Essetir since they weren’t bothered here quite as much.  Figuring it would seem odd to just stand around and watch the Druids carry on with their lives, he decided to make his way towards the entrance of the cave where their horses were.   _ Make it look like I’m just grabbing something real fast. _

 

Mordred wandered off in that direction, his mind numb as he thought about Merlin.   _ Why won’t you just let me in, _ he thought.   _ Even if you don’t want to talk to me anymore, just let me know you are alright, please. _

 

He stepped over some logs set out as benches in the camp.   _ I got close to connecting when I thought about him giving me the ring _ .  Mordred continued wandering through the camp.  _  Maybe there is something there, if I focus on that, I can at least reach him. _

 

Mordred thought back to that day.  Merlin sitting in his room when he got back from practice.  How nervous Merlin was, tripping over his words, trying to play it down.  How scared he looked when Mordred hadn’t said anything. How overwhelmed Mordred had felt, he hadn’t been that joyful in years.  Mordred fidgeted with the ring on his finger now, focusing on the memory, the connection, trying to link the emotions from that day to it.

 

He stood somewhere in the middle of the camp.  He didn’t care how odd it must have looked, he just needed to see if this worked.  He kept focusing, kept trying. After several minutes passed and nothing came of it, Mordred groaned in frustration.   _ It shouldn’t be this damned hard! _

 

Mordred began to storm off to the entrance of the cave, when suddenly the connection to Merlin formed in its full capacity, just how it was before Merlin left. 

 

He didn’t have a chance to be excited about it as he collapsed forward, the world blurring and moving in slow motion as he curled in on himself.  His body was being ripped apart, his mind sawed in half. He heard screams, but it wasn’t until he felt someone shaking his back and his name being yelled out that he was aware it was coming from him.

 

“Mordred!” he heard Arthur, Leon, Elyan, all of them trying to get to him, but his mind was trying to take him elsewhere.

 

He could see a stone room.  A cell. His arms were strapped up.  Screams echoed in the room. The pain was searing, blinding.  It wasn’t until a dagger was pulled from his leg that the pain began to subside, soreness replacing the lashing and stinging that had temporarily consumed him.  Mordred felt his stomach contract and he threw up all of its contents. He saw red staining the stone floor. He faintly heard people at camp calling out his name, felt himself being rolled onto his side, but he wasn’t in the camp at the moment.

 

“Care to tell me who Emrys is now, Merlin? And please, don’t lie.”  He heard a woman's voice say, the fraudulent sweetness making Mordred cringe.  He knew Morgana’s voice anywhere.

 

Mordred realized what was going on.  Where Merlin was. What Morgana wanted.  He tried to call out to Merlin in the link, tried to shout at him, but only managed to mutter his name.

 

“Merlin, don’t, no -,” Mordred tried.

 

“Never,” he heard Merlin’s voice say.

 

It was him.  Mordred hadn’t heard his voice in days, he wanted to cry, to reach out to Merlin, but suddenly his leg spasmed as the knife reentered his body, and Mordred was left screaming, curling in on himself, until finally, he succumbed to the darkness ebbing in his own vision.


	13. Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one chapter from Arthur's POV

Arthur knew they had limited time to spend with the Druids if Merlin was in Morgana’s clutches.  Even if he wasn’t, Morgana was still a danger to Camelot, so the second Arthur sat down in the tent, he asked the first thing that came to mind.

 

“Do you know where Morgana is?”

 

The Druid leader didn’t answer, but several other druids that had followed them in spoke up in his place.  “We do not know of the exact whereabouts of the Lady Morgana,” one of the men said. “She does well to keep her magic hidden from other sorcerers.  All we know of are rumors that she may be in one of the fortresses to the west of these lands.”

 

Arthur sighed.  “That is a start at least, rumors tend to have a grain of truth in them somewhere.”  He rubbed his hands against his legs, not pleased that they weren’t able to narrow down her location any further.  “Merlin, you said you knew of him. How?”

 

“We have known the man since the before his time.  Many great stories are written about Emrys.”

 

Arthur paused, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.  “Emrys? Are you sure we are talking about the same person?  I’m quite sure I said Merlin.”

 

“Merlin is what you know him by, but his true name is Emrys.” The woman sitting on a blanket at the man’s feet continued to talk with eyes glazed over in awe, “his and your destinies have been written and spoken of for ages.”

 

“That is quite enough, Elaina,” the man said.  Arthur stared between them. He didn’t like information regarding him or his kingdom being held from him.  If something had been prophesied about him, he had a right to know.

 

“What do these prophecies say?” he pushed, hoping one of them would cave into his demands.

 

“It is not always wise to be burdened with the knowledge of your destiny.  Emrys has had to bear his in order to fulfill yours. I would not take this lightly, Arthur Pendragon.”  The Druid leader had spoken up, his sight fixed on the young king. A warning wasn’t going to stop Arthur from finding out.  Since when did he listen to warnings?

 

He was starting to sound like Merlin now, dear God.

 

“If Merlin had to bear his, then the least I can do is bear my own,” he said, a finality in his voice that dared them to argue with him.

 

The Druid leader took in a breath.  “Very well. Elaina, if you wish.”

 

The woman smiled.  “You are the one they refer to as the Once and Future King.  The one that will unite all the lands of Albion.”

 

Arthur’s breath hitched.  He felt his fellow knights eyes drawn to him.  Those were the exact words Merlin had told him before he had banished him.  Arthur looked down at his hands. He had thought in his fit of rage that Merlin was on a similar expedition to Morgana, to bring the misery that magic had wrought unto the kingdom again, only encasing this ambition in words that Arthur wished to hear.  He hadn’t known it was his prophecy, that it was his actual destiny. 

 

“How does uniting all the lands come into play with magic?” he asked.  He had a feeling he knew the answer, but he needed to hear it from another out loud.

 

“How does one build a fair and just land for all if it does not include all?” the woman retorted.

 

Arthur closed his eyes.  He had known that would be the answer.  It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He was used to seeing magic bring nothing but devastation upon his lands.  Why would he allow something so dangerous to invade and take over what he sought to make right and just? Another question ebbed at his mind.

 

“How dare you -,” Gwaine interjected, but Arthur just raised his hand.  Gwaine immediately shut up, taking note of the King’s wariness and leaned back in his seat.

 

“Why does he go by Merlin if his real name is Emrys?”  Had Merlin lied to him again? Did he even know the man he had spent the past many years with?  The more that seemed to be revealed about the manservant, the more Arthur wasn’t sure if he ever truly knew him.  A past conversation flitted through his mind.

 

_ I am still me, I am still your loyal servant.  Please, you have to believe me, I never wanted to hurt you. _

 

His stomach clenched at the memory as the woman answered his question. “Just as you are referred to as the Once and Future King, he is referred to by us as Emrys.”  

 

“But why?  What does Emrys mean?”  Leon had asked it before Arthur managed to.  Once and Future King was fairly easy to understand, it was a title, but Emrys was just another name, was it not?

 

“It means ‘immortal’ in Druid language,” the Druid leader interjected.  Arthur’s head began to pound. Immortal? 

 

“Do you mean -.”

 

“We do not know if he is actually immortal, Arthur.  But he is powerful enough to be bestowed such a name in the prophecies.”  Arthur stared at the tent lining, trying to wrap his head around this. Merlin, a powerful warlock, known to the Druids since their early prophecies, given a name that meant ‘immortal.’ He didn’t get to ponder on this long as he heard chain mail rustle to his right, bringing him out of his daze to see Mordred get up, making to the exit of the tent.  The last thing he needed was the man throwing a tantrum in their host’s camp, even if they didn’t have a clue as to Merlin’s whereabouts yet.

 

“Mordred, are you alright?” he asked.

 

The young man turned around.  Arthur could see the stress and fatigue in his face, the man looked like he was about to kill over.  “Yes, I just need to step out for some fresh air, I am sorry if I interrupted the conversation, Sire.”  Arthur wasn’t too sure how good of an idea it was to let him wander the camp, but he figured Mordred could use the fresh air, and the Druids were his people, Arthur doubted the man would do anything of consequence to them.  It was apparent though that Mordred was a ticking time bomb. He could only pray the young man wouldn't do anything rash. With a nod, he saw Mordred turn around and walk out. 

 

“You said that Emrys has a strong magical presence, or at least I can assume that much if he is the most powerful sorcerer alive.  You also said you can usually pick up on Morgana’s presence, even if you can’t at the moment. Is it possible you can detect his?” Arthur continued to ask.

 

“Normally, yes,” the man who had spoken earlier chimed in.  “Emrys is quite distinct from most sorcerers, as is the Lady Morgana.  However, he has managed to hide his powers just as well as she. We cannot feel him right now if that was what you were hoping for.”

 

“It was,” Arthur ran a hand through his hair.  “What is the chance that Morgana may have him? Of Morgana being able to subdue him?”

 

“I cannot say.  Only that every day her powers grow and soon she may match against Emrys as an equal.”

 

Arthur still couldn’t believe Merlin, of all people, was the most powerful warlock the world had known.  It baffled him that such a goofy looking man who tripped over nothing and made piss poor excuses for his behavior could be someone spoken of and revered to as a legend.

 

Elyan spoke up.  “Is he the only one that can stop Morgana?  Surely there must be a way to stop her.”

 

The Druid leader chimed in. “Morgana is a high priestess of the Old Religion.  She has learned their ways, and thus no mortal blade will be able to kill her. Emrys’s power may be enough.  In the event it isn’t though, your sword should do the trick.”

 

Arthur looked perplexed as his gaze shifted to his sword.  “I thought you just said a mortal blade can’t kill her?”

 

“That is no mortal blade.”  The leader walked over to Arthur, resting a hand on the blade of the sword.  “This was forged in a dragon’s breath, I can feel the power emanating off of it.  It has the power to kill anything. The living, the dead, the living dead, a high priestess who has learned those ways.  It is in good hands I see, not many are blessed with such a powerful gift.”

 

Arthur didn’t get a chance to let this information sink in as a blood-curdling scream could be heard echoing through the cave.  The knights simultaneously jumped up with swords drawn, Percival and Leon already running towards the ruckus. Arthur looked back at the Druids to see them all bent over, gripping their heads.

 

“What’s going on? Are you ok?” He went over to the leader and shook his shoulder, panic creeping up his spine as the screaming continued outside.  

 

The Druid shook his head.  “Emrys,” he muttered. Arthur stopped shaking him, pulling his hand back at hearing the true name of his friend.   _ What’s going on _ , he thought.   _ Is Morgana here?  Did something happen to Merlin?   _

 

“Arthur!” He heard his name being shouted outside the tent.  Reluctantly, he drew back from the Druids and made his way out.  “It’s Mordred!” Leon shouted. Arthur’s eyes widened as he ran after Leon, the screaming getting louder as the knight in question came into sight.  He approached Mordred, who was curled in the fetal position, veins popping out his neck. Every muscle that could be seen was taut. He was grasping his head, his screams didn’t let up to allow him a breath of air.

 

Arthur knelt next to Mordred and tried to turn him over.  “Mordred!” he shouted at him. The other knights were yelling his name as well, trying to get him to snap out of it.  Mordred was fighting Arthur off, trying to writhe out of his grasp, still screaming. Arthur looked up at the Druids that followed him out of the tent, hands still holding their heads.  “What’s happening to him?!” he yelled at them.

 

The Druid leader knelt next to Mordred.  “Something has happened to Emrys.” 

 

Arthur looked at him frantically.  “What happened to Merlin? What is happening to Mordred?  How can we stop it?” Mordred’s screams were suddenly silenced, only to be replaced with him throwing up all the contents that had been in his stomach.  The tension had left Mordred, leaving him limp and collapsed on the ground. Arthur turned him onto his side, shaking him further, trying to bring him back.  “Mordred, can you hear me? Mordred!” Mordred began to shiver, his eyes glazing over, as he started to mumble.

 

“Merlin, no, don’t -.”  Arthur held his breath.  _ No, it can’t be _ , he thought.   _ Was he seeing Merlin?  Had all the Druids just seen him?  What could possibly be happening to Merlin to warrant this?  How is Mordred even aware of what the Druids might have seen? _

 

Mordred’s body suddenly tensed back up, his screams tearing out of him louder than before.  They came out choked as his body began to convulse on the ground. Arthur panicked, looking around at the knights.  

 

“Someone get me a damn cloth before he bites his tongue off!”  Elyan ripped off a part of his tunic and threw it at Arthur, who wadded it up and shoved it in Mordred’s mouth.  The man continued to convulse as Arthur yelled at the Druids.

 

“Help him, please, what do I need to do?” he asked.  The Druids shook their heads. Arthur’s panic was clouding his judgment, ripping at him, until he saw Mordred relax, his body finally still.  Arthur moved his hand towards his neck, breathing out in relief as he felt a pulse under his fingertips. “He’s alive,” he said. He saw the other knights visibly relax, reaching for swords they had cast aside to help Mordred and put them back in their sheaths.  

 

Arthur was far from relieved.  

 

He stormed over to the Druids he had been talking to earlier.  “What. Happened. To him?” He spat out, pointing at his youngest knight who was now lying in Percival’s arms.  Elaina looked at the leader, both passing silent words between each other before nodding. 

 

“It seems the connection you had wanted from us earlier had temporarily opened with Emrys, though I am sad to say that it has faded, we are unsure as to why.”  Her voice grew quieter with each passing word, not giving voice to the outcome everyone feared.

 

Arthur blinked, unable to think of anything to respond to with that.  “What - what does that have to do with Mordred’s outbreak?”

 

“Mordred is a Druid, like us, I am sure you are aware.”  Arthur nodded his head. Elaina fell silent, looking at the leader again, who continued on where she left off.  

 

“He has a strong connection to Emrys.  Stronger than us. The Druids all have a connection to him, we know the powerful warlock when he is near, as you surmised earlier.”  

 

Elaina looked at the ground, her arms crossing over her chest, her voice shaking.  “He is in distress. We all felt his pain. But Mordred’s connection - his telepathic link with Emrys must be used quite often.  When a connection between two people is strong enough, if one is in distress, the other will feel their pain, maybe even see what is happening.  I assume that is what happened to your knight.” she said.

 

“Elaina!” The Druid leader interjected, but what was said could not be taken back.

 

Arthur staggered back.  His brain was overloading as the pieces began to fall in place.  “Did you just say telepathic?” Arthur saw Elaina froze, unwilling to answer his question.  Telepathy was a form of magic. Not only did she just admit to Mordred having magic, but the possibility that Mordred and Merlin had been communicating telepathically the entire time they knew one another.  That Mordred had a means of contacting Merlin the whole time. They had been wandering around the forest like idiots, trying to track his manservant down when he could have just sent him a damn message.

 

The Druids had said Merlin had cut off his connection from them.  But they also said Mordred’s and Merlin’s connection was stronger, much stronger by the looks of it.  And Arthur was aware of how close the two had grown. Who’s to say that they could have been in contact this whole time?

 

They both had lied to him.

 

Arthur was fuming.  He stormed off to the edge of the cave.  He needed to think things over if this was going to continue any further.  He didn’t want to be heading off into a quest with information being kept from him, not knowing what the intentions were of those he had held dear to him.  He didn’t want to be around when Mordred finally came to.


	14. Unplugged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: some graphic descriptions and gaslighting

Merlin wasn’t sure if he was awake or in a perpetual dream.  His consciousness swam in and out of existence, sometimes taking in the cell he was doomed to spend the rest of his life in, sometimes trapped in the existence of his own mind.  He wasn’t sure which was worse. 

 

The blood had crusted over on his body.  Trails that had streamed down his arms and legs dried up, he could feel the tightness on his face and neck from when he spat it up earlier.  His pants were soaked and in ruin, they never let him down to go release himself, and the cell stank of urine with a tinge of metallic from the blood loss.  Merlin couldn’t feel his arms, he was positive his hands had turned another color, he didn’t want to know what shade. His muscles felt like they were peeling off his shoulder blades string by string, unraveling and fraying.  His body would spasm on occasion. Merlin was faintly aware that the dagger was no longer in his body, but it didn’t help ease the pain any.

 

_ Maybe she should have left the dagger in, _ he thought.   _ Maybe I would have finally died _ .

 

“Merlin,” he heard Mordred’s voice in the room.   _ No, _ he thought _.  I won’t talk to this illusion, just block it out.  _

 

“Merlin,” Mordred knelt in front of him, and Merlin’s breath hitched.  The worry on Mordred’s face appeared sincere. “You aren’t going to last much longer.  Please, just tell her, and you will go free.”

 

Merlin thought about it a second.  His voice came out in a raspy whisper.  “It doesn’t matter if I tell her, she will keep me here regardless, to become her servant no matter the cost.  And Arthur won’t have the advantage anymore.” Merlin’s hoarse voice whispered out, “it’s not like it matters anyway, I didn’t die from having my magic ripped out.  She must know at this point.”

 

“She won’t hurt you anymore, she will understand,” Mordred put his hand under Merlin’s chin, blue eyes shining.  “Forget Arthur. Why would you place him over me? Can’t you see I’m worried? The only one that actually cares about you.”

 

Merlin almost let himself believe it, almost let himself see the illusion in front of him as his Mordred.  “No, you aren’t him. You aren’t real.”

 

Mordred paused.  “How can you be sure?”

 

Merlin retorted.  “I know my Mordred.  My Mordred wouldn’t have wasted a second longer in here, he would have gotten me out.  Helped me, healed me. He would never beg me to reveal myself. And I know you aren’t real because you aren’t the one our telepathic link connects to.”

 

Mordred’s eyes could be seen calculating, taking in the information Merlin presented.  Merlin didn’t like that look, it made it seem as if Mordred could drop him, kill him in a second.

 

_ This isn’t Mordred _ , he thought.  

 

Mordred finally spoke.  “Why would you believe in such an arbitrary thing?”  Merlin looked at him confused. “The link, you said. You’ve been in this cell for quite some time, it is quite possible you just think you have it to comfort yourself.”

 

Merlin tensed. “No,” he said “No, I know, I remember, this is real, you aren’t.  I’m not crazy.”

 

Mordred leaned closer to him.   “But how can you be sure. This feels real, doesn’t it?”  Mordred brought up a gentle hand and wiped away some of the blood that had crusted near Merlin’s mouth.  Merlin held his breath. He wouldn’t be led astray like this, no. It didn’t matter if it felt real, it wasn’t.  Right?

 

He didn’t even know if he was awake anymore, how could he know what was real.  

 

Mordred smiled.  “See, I’m here with you right now.  The link you think is there, is only what you thought of to comfort yourself.”  Merlin shook his head.  _  It can’t be _ , he thought.  He remembered him and Mordred using it a lot, didn’t they use it a lot?

 

Come to think of it, why was he hanging on to it?  He had been the one to cut off the communication between them.  Even if he held onto the link, it was him who sealed it.

 

Mordred gently caressed Merlin’s face.  “Merlin, I’m worried about you. It’s alright, I know you.  I know you will do what is right.” Merlin didn’t know what to think.  He hated it when people said that to him, he never did what was right. What he thought was right never seemed to be right, it was what always got people killed.

 

“Shhh, don’t worry I am here,” Mordred hugged him, and Merlin let him, having no other choice.  “No one else may care about you, they might all think you are worthless, idiotic, pathetic. No matter how true it is though, I’m here.  You can only rely on me.”

 

Merlin continued to sob.  He knew Mordred was the only one he could go to in the past.  The only one that would comfort him. Even if he seemed odd and pushy now, how different was that from before?  Even if this wasn’t the real Mordred, what did he have to lose in letting this one comfort him?

 

Against his own better judgment, he listened to Mordred, unable to tell apart what he knew was true and what was the illusion. 


	15. Ire

Mordred felt as if an anvil had dropped on him.  He moaned as he cracked his eyes, the light from the candles not helping the pounding headache that was increasing.  Looking around, he saw the canopy of the tent he was in. He tried to remember what happened, why he was lying down in the tent when it all came back in full force.

 

Mordred sat up stalk straight.   _ Merlin _ , he thought.  He tried the connection again and was thankful that while it wasn’t there in full, a tiny bit of the link ebbed through Merlin’s seals.  

 

Then he remembered why Merlin’s seal on the link had lifted, and Mordred just about threw up whatever he had left in his stomach again.

 

He had seen Merlin’s view.  Seen Morgana, stabbing Merlin with what was most likely an enchanted dagger.  He didn’t know what that dagger was, but it was horrendous enough for Merlin to lose control of his magic.  Merlin, lose control. 

 

He could be dying.  Mordred wouldn’t have the connection he had now if he was dead, but there was no way Merlin could last much longer.  

 

He had seen blood.  So much blood.

 

Mordred rolled off the mat he was previously lying on and ran out of the tent.   No doubt if what he thought happened to himself was true, the knights would understand and have taken off without him.  The Druids must have felt Merlin’s magic as well, they must have told them where to go, encouraged them to leave as soon as possible.  The sooner any of them could get to Merlin the better, he could catch up.

 

So when he saw them by one of the campfires, fury engulfed him in flames.

 

“What the hell are you all still doing here?!” he yelled.  Arthur stood up, not backing down from Mordred’s insolence.

 

“You do not order us around, Mordred,” he said.

 

Mordred just about screamed.  “This isn’t about orders anymore!  Merlin is still out there, and you are just sitting around here carrying on while he is fatally wounded.  What kind of friends are you?” He frantically looked at all the knights, who were still trying to get over their initial shock of Mordred’s outbreak.

 

“Mordred!”  Arthur shouted.  “We can’t go anywhere if we don’t know where he is!  All we have is a possible cardinal direction. Besides, you of all people should know, shouldn’t you?”  Arthur was trying to gain the authority in the conversation, but Mordred wasn’t having it.

 

“What the hell is that even supposed to mean?!  Do you even care about what happens to Merlin, or was this just some witch hunt of yours to prove why you need to keep your outdated magic ban?!”  

 

“Watch your mouth!” Arthur pointed at him.  “I won’t have a sorcerer putting words into mine.”

 

Mordred fell silent.  He should have known. His outbreak earlier would have made it obvious to anyone that he had magic, and Arthur most likely demanded answers out of the Druids.  He looked around at the knights, seeing the hesitancy and distrust cloud their faces. That was why Arthur was acting more hostile to him. Was that the reason why they hadn’t left?  Because now they knew both Mordred and Merlin had magic, that they had kept one of their biggest secrets from them, if only because their lives were at stake? 

 

Mordred strode over to Arthur, getting in his face.

 

“So what, is this it then?  Going to banish me too? We aren’t in Camelot anymore, sentence me to death all you want, I won’t go back.  Go right the hell ahead, I never planned for you lot to come with me. If you aren’t going to help me find Merlin, I will do it myself.”

 

“Merlin is just as much a friend to us as he is to you.  Why don’t you tell us why you never used your telepathic connection to find him, huh?  Yeah, the Druids made sure to fill us in on that. Said the way you reacted meant it was pretty strong.  What kind of goose chase are  _ you _ leading us on?”

 

Mordred started shaking.  He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  “You don’t think I’ve tried this whole time to connect to him?!”  His voice had risen several octaves higher as he screeched at Arthur.  “To reach him?! You think I would let this happen to Merlin?!” His voice echoed off of the caves as he shouted.  “You think I would go through all of this trouble just to betray you?! You think any of this has to do with you?!  The only reason he is in this mess is because of you! Because of your blinded hatred!” Mordred’s fists were clenched. 

 

Arthur looked at him calmly.  “I just need to make sure I can still trust those close to me.”

 

Mordred didn’t even think, he just reacted, his fist meeting Arthur’s face.  Arthur looked back in shock, before letting his own anger get the best of him and launching himself at Mordred.  Mordred was quick to catch him though and flung Arthur onto his back. Mordred tried to swing in for another punch, but several hands grasped his shoulders and arms, roughly pulling him off of Arthur.  Percival held Arthur back as Mordred kept trying to run forward, Gwaine, Elyan, and Leon holding onto him. 

 

Mordred kept attempting to writhe out of their grip, only to continuously be pulled back.  His emotions wouldn’t let go, they needed to be seen, to be heard. When he couldn’t express them through fighting anymore, did he finally yell out and collapse down to the ground.  The camp was quiet except for sobs that began to fill the cave. Mordred let the tears that had been held back for days now flow freely, hiccuping and gasping as he grasped his hair.  A hand started to rub his back, Arthur’s blurry outline coming into his vision when he lifted his head.

 

“I just can’t,” Mordred’s voice strained to get out.  “I just can’t sit here knowing that Merlin is out there, that he’s -,” he hiccuped, “he might be dead soon.  I saw him, there was so much blood, I -.” Mordred rubbed his eyes and nose as they emptied. “I can’t lose him.” 

 

The hand rubbed circles and patted his back.  “I know,” Arthur said. “While I still don’t know how I feel about your magic and Merlin’s, and I’m not quite ready to forgive that punch, I let my fears get the better of me just now.”  Arthur paused. “Merlin has been one of my closest friends in all my years. If anything, it is my job to make sure he is safe. I already failed him once. I’m not failing him again.”

 

Mordred could sense the guilt that was gnawing at Arthur, the need to right the wrong he committed against someone dear to him.  “Can I trust you, Mordred?” Mordred sniffed, trying to get a grip on himself. He nodded. He opened his mouth, about to recite the lines he had told Merlin before he had left.  How he was a knight sworn to protect the King, no matter the cost. Arthur beat him to it. “That is all I need.” Mordred looked to Arthur’s face, only to find a veracious countenance greet him.  “I believe you Mordred, you have proven your loyalty time and time again. Just as Merlin has. So let’s go find him.” 

 

Mordred stunned, wiped his face, taking in a deep breath and sporting a face as close to indifference as he could manage.  “He’s weakened a bit, so the seal he had on our link has loosened. I think I might be able to trace him. But we should leave now before there is a chance he tries to close it off again.”

 

Arthur nodded.  Mordred heard him command the other knights to gather up all their supplies for immediate departure.  Mordred could still feel the small connection left of Merlin’s, barely a wisp of magic. He hoped the weakness of it wasn’t a comparison of the state Merlin was in now.


	16. Drowning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: implied non-con/rape elements

Merlin could laugh.  Nothing was right. Nothing was wrong.  Everything just was. It existed. It didn’t.  He was here. He wasn’t. He cracked.

 

He was cracked it too many ways.  His body felt cracked. His magic dismantled.  His mind collapsed. Nothing was his, and yet it was all the best representation of who he was.

 

Damaged.  He had always been damaged.  The only difference now was it showed.

 

Morgana had been down at some point.  She no longer asked about Emrys. Merlin figured she knew now, after the reaction he had to that substance she stabbed in him.  Yet, he was still here, she hadn’t killed him. That meant she wanted his powers to use against Arthur. Or she couldn’t manage to kill him.  The only advantage he had left over her was he wasn’t hers to use yet. 

 

He wasn’t sure if that was true anymore though.

 

Resisting gave her the satisfaction of tearing him apart.  Complying would give her the satisfaction she craved. Any way you looked at it, he gave her what she wanted.

 

It drove him mad.

 

He was useless.  Nothing but hanging meat.  He didn’t know what his purpose was, why he still existed.  

 

Mordred didn’t give him the comfort he sought either.  One moment he was gentle, the next he was cold, distant, angry.  He couldn’t figure out what he wanted. Merlin just wanted the one person he knew he loved to understand.

 

No one ever would though.  Merlin was alone.

 

Mordred had appeared in front of him as if on cue.  “Why won’t you just join her? Why do you resist me?” So it was angry Mordred today.

 

Merlin could laugh.  The situation was too much.

 

Instead he hung there, as he had for who knows how long.  He had accepted his fate. He would never leave this hell.  Hell is what he deserved after all.

 

His head was jerked upright, his eyes meeting Mordred’s.  “I thought you loved me.” Merlin’s heart clenched. The lachrymose expression Mordred wore tore at him.  He did love Mordred. But was this Mordred?

 

Did Mordred ever exist?

 

He did exist, he was standing right in front of him.

 

“How could I love someone when I don’t even know if they are them or not,” Merlin muttered.  It was the wrong thing to say.

 

Fury flashed across Mordred’s face before disbelief settled on it.  It was the same look Mordred used to give Merlin when Merlin told him he couldn’t trust him.  Guilt washed over as the memories surfaced. “I’m sorry,” Merlin whispered.

 

“What do I need to do to for you to trust me?” Mordred asked.

 

It was as if they had gone back in time, to when Mordred had first joined the knights.  Constantly unsure why Merlin was avoiding him, suspicious of him, always watching him. It made his stomach churn to know he made Mordred feel that way again.

 

“It isn’t you, it’s me,” Merlin said.

 

Mordred looked up.  “Is that link you are so fond of still there?”

 

Merlin felt around.  It had been intruding on him constantly.  He tried to shut it out, to tell himself it was wasted hope, that he was imagining it.  But every once in a while he would reach out to see what would come of it, and the momentary relief was beyond anything he could have ever felt.  He wanted to think it was real. It had to be real. This wasn’t all in his head, right? The confusion drove him closer and closer to snapping.

 

Merlin’s hesitation was answer enough.  “Merlin,” Mordred said, “you worry me. You can’t tell what is real and what isn’t anymore.  You can believe in me.” Mordred closed the gap between them, arms falling around Merlin’s waist.  “Merlin,” Mordred whispered. “I need you to trust me, I can show you that I am real,” his hands wandered under Merlin’s tunic, and Merlin shivered.  His mind couldn’t decipher what was happening around him. He loved Mordred, would do anything to show he trusted the knight. This is what Mordred wanted, wasn’t it?  Of course it was, Mordred was asking for this himself. He only had the best intentions for Merlin, always had. 

 

He began to give into the temptations, to the soft whispers in his ear, when a glint of light caught his eye.  It was in his tunic. Had he finally gone mad, seeing odd colors glistening on his chest?

 

A sharp pain hit the side of his head as he remembered the day Mordred had given him the necklace that still hung around his neck, buried under his torn tunic.  Suddenly the hands against his body felt foreign. Merlin tried to struggle back, only to be brought closer against the illusion that pretended to be his lover. Before Mordred could lean in and continue, Merlin managed to choke out his thoughts.

 

“My birthday.” Mordred stopped, his face only inches away from Merlin’s.

 

“What about it?” Mordred asked.

 

“Do you remember what you got for my birthday?  What you told me?” Merlin’s eyes threatened to tear up, the only memory he knew of him and Mordred together being real.  He had the physical proof of it around his neck. That he had indeed been with Mordred outside this cell, that they had a wonderful relationship.  That this twisted version he had been exposed to was only trying to warp those memories into something that Merlin would have to depend on when he broke.   Even if he wanted Mordred, this wasn’t right. Merlin couldn’t move, he was physically injured beyond repair. If his memories served him right, Mordred would never do this in the state Merlin was in.

 

And Merlin wasn’t in any state, mentally, emotionally, or physically, to give Mordred what he wanted.

 

“It must have slipped my mind,” Mordred’s calm demeanor made Merlin’s stomach drop.  He knew it, knew that he wasn’t crazy. The link was real, it kept trying to communicate with him.  His Mordred was out there, trying to find him.

 

He didn’t know if he should be pleased.  If the real Mordred was trying to reach him, what did that mean for the knight?  What happened to him?

 

The illusion gripped him harder.  “I thought I told you to ignore that funny feeling in your head.  I can show you I’m real, it is me that you need to be with. I’m the only one you can trust.”

 

“No,” Merlin tried to move his head away, but no strength was left in him.  “Please, don’t do this.” He could only hope that this illusion Mordred would listen.  He knew it wouldn’t though, the chains that had eaten through the flesh around his wrists were proof of that.

 

“You have to know though, don’t you?” Mordred lifted up his chin, his vision blurring as the tears broke through and fell down his face.  “This is the best way.” With that, Mordred leaned in and kissed him. 

 

It was nothing like what Merlin remembered.  Merlin continued to cry as Mordred explored. Merlin could feel his soul leaving his body.  He needed to get out, get away. He didn’t want to be awake if this was going to happen to him. He wouldn’t tarnish the good memories of Mordred with this twisted version of him.

 

He remembered the small bundle of warmth in his mind that tried to reach out to him.  And for the first time, he let himself take its refuge as he tried to ignore the sickness he felt as a mouth continued to ask for more and hands explored where he didn’t want them to go.


	17. Pleads

Since they had left the camp, Mordred was able to hang onto the link between him and Merlin.  It was faded, sometimes Mordred wasn’t sure if he was imaging it or not. But then there were times where he could feel Merlin.  He felt like an abused puppy that wanted attention but was too afraid to get close to its owner. Mordred would try to reach out to him, sending any comfort he could.  He tried to talk several times, but no response ever came. He wasn’t sure Merlin could hear him. Mordred could only hope that Merlin could take comfort in knowing Mordred was there, and that he would get him out of this.

 

Mordred also knew exactly where Merlin was.  It took a bit to get enough information out of the link, but it seemed to be leading them to an abandoned fortress Cenred once used towards the Northwest of his lands.  They were only a day’s ride from it with no breaks.

 

A day was too long.

 

Mordred wasn’t sure if Merlin would hold out.  The vision he had seen scared him, no one could suffer that much blood loss and live for much longer.  He knew Merlin was different, they weren’t entirely sure yet if he was actually immortal as his name suggested.  But if he was, it would be even crueler to let him live in such conditions longer than any mortal could withstand.

 

Their horses were galloping, they had been pushing them for hours now.  He knew the horses would need a break soon, but if they could get any energy out of them, he was going to push them to their limit.

 

Merlin couldn’t wait.

 

They had all been silent the whole ride, only speaking when Mordred changed course.  Mordred knew he had spoken out of line when he said none of them cared. It was far from the truth.  They all had their reasons to worry about Merlin. Merlin had done so much for all of them. 

 

_ Merlin, _ he tried to send through to the link,  _ you are more loved than you will ever know.  We are coming, we will be there. _

 

Suddenly, Merlin’s presence infiltrated his mind.  Mordred’s heart fluttered, he was glad that Merlin wasn’t blocking him out anymore.  Something felt off though. Merlin’s magic didn’t feel quite right. His presence didn’t feel whole.  It seemed disembodied, fragmented, distressed. As if Merlin was trying to leave his own body and take comfort in Mordred’s, but couldn’t find the strength or wherewithal too.

 

The more Mordred tried to comfort the presence and engulf it within his own, the more his vision of the road in front of him began to blur.  It wasn’t until the mud and wet leaves hit his face that he realized what he was seeing.

 

It was the same as it was before.  Stone room, the crimson from earlier now dried brown stains on the floor.  Something was invading his space, hands were feeling him, and the person pulled back enough to reveal themselves to his line of vision.

 

Mordred vomited.  He saw himself, but it wasn’t him.  He knew exactly what was happening. Mordred couldn’t witness this.  He knew exactly what Merlin was enduring. Mandrake magic was powerful, but if this is what Merlin was experiencing now, Mordred knew that Merlin was more broken than what he currently knew of the man physically.

 

That’s what Morgana was trying to do.  Break Merlin and make him one of her own.  It was a cruel ritual the high priestesses of the Old Religion used to create brainwashed slaves.  

 

He tried to pull himself out of the vision, only hanging onto the presence of Merlin.  He hugged his knees as he focused on his lover.    
  
_ It isn’t real, love, it isn’t me.  Please, know I wouldn’t do that, I love you.  I love you so much, I would never- Merlin, I’m here, its ok. _  He tried to give all his love to the presence, he hoped that Merlin was receptive enough to hear.  He hoped he wasn’t too far gone, that he wasn’t too late.

 

What if they got there and Merlin didn’t recognize Mordred?  What if he never wanted to be near Mordred again?

 

Mordred cried.  He knew he would leave Merlin alone if it distressed him to be around Mordred after this, but it hurt knowing it might come to that.  

 

Morgana would pay.  He would make sure she never could do this again to anyone.  And he would make sure she suffered a fate worse than Merlin.  

 

The knights had stopped when they saw Mordred fall and had been talking, but it wasn’t until Mordred heard Leon’s voice that he was brought back into the present.

 

“We need to find him, now, something might be happening to Merlin, don’t you remember the last time Mordred was like this, what he said?  We need to get Mordred’s mind back here now, he’s the only one that knows the way, the longer we wait - Arthur look out!” 

 

Mordred snapped his head up as a shadow passed over them.  All the knights had drawn their swords, Mordred jumping to his feet.  They all spun around themselves, looking into the sky to see where the source of the shadow had come from. 

 

Mordred hadn’t caught sight of it, but Arthur out of his stupefaction shouted, “was that a damn dragon?”

 

Mordred didn’t even let the words register before he started running after it.  There were only two dragons Mordred was aware of. One was in Morgana’s presence, and if so they were closer to the fortress than they previously thought.  The other was one Mordred had never been fond of, but Merlin had introduced to him when Merlin explained to Mordred he was a dragonlord.

 

Mordred remembered the phrase Merlin used to call Kilgharrah.  While he didn’t have the dragonlord presence to command Kilgharrah, he still tried to shout it out, infusing his magic into the calling, hoping that the dragon would hear him or pick up on his magic, anything at this point.

 

Mordred ran into a clearing, the clanging of armor and chainmail following him as the knights chased after him.  Mordred was about to scream at the empty sky before the sight of Kilgharrah came into view. 

 

Kilgharrah managed to land in the small clearing Mordred found.  Arthur and the knights raised their swords, pacing towards the dragon steadily in an attack formation.  Mordred raised his hand, effectively stopping their movement. Kilgharrah acknowledged them but turned his attention to Mordred.

 

“I see you tried to learn the dragon commands.  While it is impressive that you were able to call them out, need I remind you that I do not answer to you.”  Kilgharrah eyed him threateningly.

 

Mordred wasn’t having this.  They could argue with each other until they were blue in the mouth, but he knew why the dragon was here.

 

“I don’t care if you answer to me or not.  That’s not why I called you. I know you are here for Merlin, as am I.”  Mordred waited, Kilgharrah studying him. When Mordred didn’t say anything else Kilgharrah spoke.

 

“What makes you think that, Druid boy?”

 

“Why else would you be in Essetir?  Heading straight for the place he is being held.”  Mordred stepped forward. “You felt his magic earlier too, didn’t you?  Please, if you are heading in that direction, take us with you. It will be far faster than the horses, not to mention a powerful ally in aiding us in his rescue.  Please, I beg you.”

 

Kilgharrah scoffed. “And why would I help the likes of you?  Just because it seems your fate has changed doesn’t mean I trust you.  If I didn’t trust you with Arthur’s life,” Kilgharrah bent his head down to Mordred’s level, “then why would I trust you with Merlin’s?”  Mordred knew Kilgharrah’s reservations of him, which would probably never change after the future he had seen and constantly warned Merlin against, but none of that mattered now.

 

“Because I am the closest thing you will probably get in order to make sure Merlin gets out of there alive.  Not only that, but I will make sure the people responsible suffer more than what he has.” Mordred defiantly stared at Kilgharrah.  He wasn’t going to give in, not when the dragon’s help could mean the difference between life and death to the warlock they cared about.  

 

Kilgharrah studied him a bit before finally speaking.  “Very well. Hear me though, Druid boy, I am not doing this for your sake.  Merlin is my kin, the last of the dragonlords, and I will not allow my kin to be handled in the manner he has been.  If you do not succeed, I guarantee you will no longer see the light of day.”

 

Mordred nodded.  If he didn’t succeed, he would take his own life gladly, there wasn’t a question in it.  

 

“Very well,” Kilgharrah said, as he bent down low enough for them to hop on his neck.

 

Mordred looked at the knights.  He could see the litany of questions they wanted to ask but was thankful they refrained from it.  They were running out of time. “Come on guys, let's go.” Reluctantly, the all filed onto the dragon’s neck, and when Mordred finally hopped on last did Kilgharrah spread his wings and head in the direction of the fortress.

 

It was right in their view.  They weren’t far from it. Mordred closed his eyes and prayed as the fortress steadily got closer, bracing himself for the inevitable fight ahead. 


	18. Tragedy, or Hope?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: somewhat graphic descriptions

Kilgharrah did not hold back.  The moment they descended upon the fortress, fire spewed from the dragon’s mouth, blinding Mordred.  He could hear Morgana’s men trying to get their weapons ready, trying to get the catapults set up, but they never had the chance as the dragon swooped in and they were devoured by the flames.

 

They landed near the entrance of the citadel.  The knights jumped off Kilgharrah’s neck and were met with a flurry of Morgana’s men.  Swords drawn, they yelled, all their energy put into cutting down each man that stood in front of them.  Metal clanged as swords clashed, burning flesh filling everyone’s nostrils as Morgana’s men tried to put out the fires caused by the dragon.

 

Mordred let his fury show.  He didn’t stop his sword. Each opponent only took a few swings to cut down, the sound of meat being torn to pieces by his blade giving him a satisfaction he hadn’t realized he craved.  His mind reeled as he continued cutting down those in front of him, unaware that he was being surrounded as he dueled those willing to come forward.

 

“Mordred, for God’s sake, you have magic!  Lay waste them so we can get in the fortress,” he heard Arthur cry out, attempting to fight three men at once.  Coming to his senses, Mordred looked around, seeing his friends slowly lose ground as they were all being surrounded.  Another guard leaped in front of him, causing Mordred to fight defensively, the man’s sword moving faster than the previous ones he fought.  

 

He muttered under his breath “Ic be bebiede baet bu abifest nu.”  All at once, Morgana’s men stumbled back, many falling and hitting their heads on the ground, some groaning as the sudden tremble in the Earth caused them to land at odd angles.

 

Mordred started to run towards the entrance, only to be stopped by Arthur grabbing his arm.  “Mordred, find Merlin. Percival, Leon, and I will find Morgana, keep her from coming after you.”  

 

He looked at Arthur incredulously. “Are you mad?  You won’t stand a chance against her!” 

 

Arthur gripped his arm tighter, forcing him closer.  “All the more reason to find Merlin faster and come help me then.”  

 

Mordred understood.  Even if Arthur couldn’t fight Morgana off, Mordred might be able to.  At least they would be on equal footing in a fight. 

 

And Arthur was willing to let Mordred seek his revenge. 

 

Mordred nodded, Arthur, Percival, and Leon taking the stairs towards the main halls and chambers, Mordred following Merlin’s presence down to the dungeons with Gwaine and Elyan in tow.

 

They were barely down the stairs when arrows flew at them, one digging right into Mordred’s thigh.  Yelling, Mordred collapsed forward, rolling down the rest of the steps. Gwaine and Elyan jumped over him, prepared for the darts that now flew through the air and just managing to avoid them.  Mordred heard the sounds of men grunting as Elyan and Gwaine kept their opponents busy. 

 

He pushed himself up, looking at the arrow that was now bone deep in his leg.   _ This won’t stop me _ , he thought.  He grabbed the shaft of the arrow, taking a deep breath in as he began to pull.  He felt his muscles rip and his nerves protest throughout his leg as he yanked the arrow out, muttering an incantation that would cauterize the wound.  Even if Mordred didn’t know how to heal the injury, he could still manage to keep himself from excessively bleeding. 

 

Mordred opened his eyes, in time to see one of Morgana’s men pop his head out from behind his hiding spot, aiming a crossbow at Gwaine’s back.  A quick flash of his eyes and the man became engulfed in flames. The two knights who had finished their fights jumped, alarmed at the sudden outburst, before looking back at Mordred in awe.

 

“Glad you are on our side, kid,” Gwaine said.  “Rather be the one toasting than being toasted.”

 

Mordred huffed out, annoyed at Gwaine’s joking tone.  He brought himself up to stand, only to have his leg buckle under him, causing him to fall forward.  Elyan caught his torso before he could meet the floor once again. “We need to get moving,” he strained to get out.  “More guards could be here. I can feel his presence, he must be in one of these rooms.” 

 

“You won’t be able to get anywhere with that leg the way it is.  Can’t you heal it?” Gwaine asked.

 

The daggers Mordred shot in his glare at the knight caused Gwaine to stagger back.  Mordred didn’t melt the iciness from his tone either. “I’m sorry the healing arts weren’t exactly a specialty of mine and all I can do is stop myself from bleeding to death.” 

 

“Calm down, I was only asking.”  Elyan managed to get one of Mordred’s arms around his neck, Gwaine volunteering to take the other side.  “You know the way, let us take you to him.”

 

Mordred nodded.  “Keep going straight.  I’m not sure which room it is yet, but he is here.”  A grunt escaped Mordred as he tried to walk, his leg shaking every time any bit of weight threatened to bear down on it.  They managed to hide behind pillars and in small enclaves as they heard Morgana’s men approach them. The whole underneath of the fortress seemed to be one gigantic, never-ending prison. Mordred’s heart raced each time he was greeted with an empty cell.   _ He has to be in one of these, he is here, I can feel it. _

 

As the three of them turned a corner, four men who had managed to stay silent brought their swords down on them.  Elyan and Gwaine dropped Mordred to make an attempt to block their attackers. 

 

As soon as Mordred’s hands hit the ground, a sudden pulse amplified within his mind.  A pulse that barely hung onto life, calling out to him. 

 

“There,” Mordred shouted.  “Merlin’s in there,” though he realized he was only really shouting it to himself, as the other two were currently occupied.  He pushed himself up onto the nearest wall, using it as support to get to the door he needed to be. One guard saw his feeble attempts and stalked towards him.

 

_ Too bad _ , Mordred thought.   _ He could have believed himself to die a heroic death if he had just stayed the fuck over there _ .  Mordred’s eyes flashed and the man’s neck snapped, dropping him to the ground.

 

He reached the door, Merlin’s magic radiating off of it, entangled and twisted within another source.   _The mandrakes_ , Mordred thought.   _It’s mixed within Merlin’s magic,_ _they are trying to take hold of him. I need to get in there now!_ He rattled the door handle, which seemed to be stuck and rusted shut.  Each moment he spent on this side of the door was another moment Merlin was subjected to breaking and his soul belonging to the likes of Morgana.  He started beating the door. 

 

“Merlin!”  He shouted out, continuing to bang on the door.  Panic was freezing his mind, he was unable to make coherent thoughts anymore.  He rammed his side into it. He needed to get in there. His breathing began to get shallow, his already fast-paced heart speeding up.  He couldn’t take this, he couldn’t lose someone else dear to him as well. 

 

Everything around Mordred started vibrating.  The door began rattling, the boxes and weapons that now littered the floor traveling across the floor, responding to the energy rolling off of Mordred in waves.  He wasn’t aware of what he was doing, continuing to ram into the door that separated him from Merlin.

 

“Mordred,” Gwaine touched Mordred’s shoulder.  The slight contact set him off. The sorrow, anger, panic, desperation, grief, all of it expelled out of Mordred.  He screamed, everything falling and pushed away from him with force. The knights hit the floor, the door busted off its hinges and landed with a thud, dust casting a film over the scene in front of him.  

 

The heart that had been pumping adrenaline into his body faster than what he had ever experienced stilled, his body tensed.  He tried to move forward, his injured leg once again buckling as he stumbled to his knees. Crawling, his stomach twisted itself into knots, eyes stinging as he made his way closer to the man.

 

There wasn’t a man there any longer.  Merlin was nothing but a shell, a skeleton. Dried blood caked his skin, mixed in with black ink from the dozens of mandrakes that hung from the ceiling.  His hands had turned a dark shade of purple, Mordred was sure the chains Merlin hung by were only covering up the sight of his bones. He could see pus oozing around the chains, the wounds most likely septic.  His skin was sallow, his eyes distant. As Mordred got closer, he could hear the man muttering to himself, “it isn’t real, you are making this up, it isn’t real, don’t listen, it isn’t real.”

 

The tears were staining Mordred’s face as he struggled to stand.  When he managed to reach his full height, he grasped onto the chains that held Merlin up.  Bounded magic coursed within him as he touched them. The chains were enchanted, probably tightening at any use of magic.  By the looks of it, Merlin had used his magic more than once. Most likely to keep the images the mandrakes concatenated away from him.  

 

His voice broke as he called out to him.  “Merlin.” Merlin didn’t respond, just continued to mutter. “Merlin, it’s me, it’s me, love, its ok, I’m here.”  Mordred tried to undo the chains, mustering up his strength and reciting the unbinding spells he knew, but they stayed tightly bound to their captor.  

 

His face scrunched up, frustration seeping out every moment he watched Merlin continue to hang lifeless in front of him.  The burning in his gut and mind were unable to be kept at bay. He knew he always had trouble keeping his emotions and magic separate, but he couldn’t help it.   He let the fire burn. He didn’t come all this way to be helpless, watch as the one he loved dissolve and became a husk of himself. The mandrakes that hung around the room caught fire at once, smoke filling the cell dangerously fast.  He concentrated it on the chains, any force that would come to him he let it come. The chains would break, he would will them to if it was the last thing he did.

 

He saw Merlin start to fall to the ground and caught him.  The chains had melted. Mordred quickly knelt, cradling Merlin in his lap. 

 

“Merlin, it’s ok, it’s ok, I’m here.  You will be alright,” he continued to whisper, his face buried in Merlin’s hair.  He muttered the cauterizing spell and a spell to help with the pain Merlin was undoubtedly in.  It wouldn’t be much, he needed to get to Gaius fast, but it was all he could do as he petted the hair that was clumped in knots.

 

“Mordred!” he heard Gwaine call out.  “We need to get out of here before both of you suffocate.”  Mordred looked up at the knights, wishing to just lie there a bit with his lover.  He just got him back, just got to see the face he hoped would never leave his sight again.  But he knew Merlin needed help, the sooner they got out the better.

 

“Right,” he muttered.  He cradled Merlin into his arms, pushing himself off the ground.  Despite his hopes, his leg hadn’t improved in the last few minutes.

 

“Aaah,” he cried out, falling forward with Merlin in his arms.  Elyan and Gwaine managed to catch him before Merlin hit the ground. 

 

“I’ve got him, Mordred, don’t worry.  Let Gwaine help you up.” Elyan grabbed Merlin, draping him over his arms.  He heard Merlin groan, eyes closed. 

 

“I’m fine,” he pushed Gwaine off of him.   _ Merlin is in worse pain than I am, I don’t need help.  If he can do it, I can too. _  He unsheathed his sword, using it as a crutch to push himself off the floor, limping towards the entrance.

 

“Whatever you say,” Gwaine said.  They rushed out of the room, Mordred trailing behind the three of them as they proceeded down the corridor they just came through.  As they got closer to the stairs, dozens of shadows were seen coming down them. 

 

“Shit, we can’t fight that many off,” Elyan exclaimed.  Mordred rolled his eyes, pushing past him as Elyan tried to find a place to rest Merlin, Gwaine already in a fighting stance.

 

“Did you really already forget what I can do?” Mordred bit back.  “I’m slightly hurt at that.” He heard Gwaine scoff. Mordred closed his eyes, reciting an incantation.  As the men reached the bottom of the steps, a void opened at the bottom of them, causing the men in front to halt and the men behind them to run into them, pushing the front lines into it.  The rest of the men skittered, taking in the scene, and decided to scurry back from where they came.

 

“Lyft sy be in baelwylm ac forhienan se widere.”  A wind from the entrance of the stairwell pushed them over, rolling them down the rest of the stairs and into the void.  Mordred closed the hole, his grip on his sword slackening and falling to his knees. The spell had taken more energy out of him than he cared to admit.  

 

“You ok?” Elyan asked.  

 

Mordred nodded.  “Let’s get out of here.”  He limped towards the stairs, using the wall to steady himself as Gwaine ran ahead to check the corridor. 

 

“Coast seems clear,” he said as Mordred and Elyan reached the top.  They rushed towards the entrance of the fortress. Mordred stopped dead in his tracks. 

 

“What is it?” Gwaine hissed, noticing their missing companion a few feet behind them.  

 

Mordred looked behind him.  He had promised Arthur he would help him.  Morgana was still there, he could feel her presence a floor up.  He wasn’t in any shape to fight, but he needed to do this. Not just for Arthur, but for himself.  For Merlin.

 

“I need to go help Arthur.  I promised him. Besides, they most likely need help if they aren’t back yet.” 

 

Gwaine stalked closer to Mordred.  “Not a chance, you can’t even walk.  I will go up there, even if Arthur and the others haven’t gotten her, I can get them out.  I have a fighting chance.”

 

Mordred ground his teeth together.  “You don’t understand Gwaine.  _ I _ have to do this.  I have to.” 

 

Gwaine looked Mordred over.  “Revenge doesn’t suit you, kid.  Go back with Merlin, he needs you.”

 

“Mordred.”  As if on cue, both Gwaine and Mordred turned towards the sound of the scorched voice, to see Merlin attempting to lift his head, his arm reaching out towards them.  “Mordred?” he rasped out. “Is it you? Is it really you?” He felt Merlin’s magic tentatively reach out through their link. 

 

Mordred forgot everything.  Where they were, what was happening, had no imprint on his mind as he rushed forward, gently taking Merlin’s head into his hands, embracing the warlock’s magic within his own. 

 

“Yes, it is, it is really me.”  Mordred beamed. He wanted so badly to swoop in and kiss Merlin, but the memory of the last vision he saw kept him from doing anything more than holding the warlock.  “The mandrakes are gone. They won’t torment you anymore, it’s me, I am here.” A small grin crossed Merlin’s face. His free arm came up grabbed Mordred, tugging on him to come closer.  Mordred leaned in, feeling the arm wrap around his back. He tried to return the hug as best as he could given that Merlin was still being held by Elyan. Merlin’s body was shivering, his hand clasping tightly into Mordred’s hair.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he heard Merlin croak.  “I am so, so sorry.”

 

“Shh,” Mordred hushed out.  “Don’t be sorry for anything.  You’re with me, you’re safe.” 

 

“Mordred.”  Mordred turned his head slightly to look at Gwaine.  “Go with him, you both need medical attention and to be with each other.”

 

As much as Mordred wanted that, wanted nothing more than to fly home on Kilgharrah’s back and nurse Merlin back to health, this spat Camelot had with Morgana needed to end.  It almost took Merlin away from him. Who knows what else she would take next.

 

He needed to watch her burn.  To watch the light leave her eyes.

 

“Merlin,” he said, pulling back and looking into the eyes of a haunted man.  Mordred’s stomach knotted. “I need to go help Arthur with Morgana. Elyan, Gwaine, take him back to Kilgharrah, have him fly him back to Camelot as fast as he can.”  He held up his hand at Gwaine’s protests. “Out of all of us, I have a chance of beating her. Magic can only be defeated with magic. I will end this once and for all.”

 

“No,” he heard Merlin rasp out.  Mordred’s heart clenched, the frightened, wild look he saw in Merlin’s eyes freezing him to the spot, Merlin’s arm grasping Mordred’s like a lifeline.  “Don’t leave me.”

 

He held onto the hand, encouraging Merlin to release him.  “I’m sorry, Merlin.” He wiped back the small wisps of hair that were matted to Merlin’s sweaty forehead.  “I have to do this. Don’t worry, I will come back to you, I promise.” Mordred eased Merlin’s hand off of him, refusing to look at the frightened man’s face, unsure if he could return inside the fortress if he looked at him any longer.  “Make sure he gets back safe,” he whispered to Elyan.

 

“You have my word,” Elyan said, turning around as Merlin tried to yell out. 

 

“No, Mordred don’t!” 

 

Mordred stopped Gwaine.  “Wave a torch at the entrance of the fortress.  Kilgharrah will see it and come down for all of you.  Don’t wait for us, Merlin might not have much longer.”  Merlin’s cries could still be heard. Mordred tried to block them out.

 

“Are you sure about this?”  He saw the worry enveloping Gwaine, the worry of sending one of the youngest knights they knew into a battle with nothing more than a leg he could barely stand on, even if he could summon winds and fire with only a quick flash of his eyes.  

 

Mordred nodded.  “I will be fine. Look over Merlin, please.”  Gwaine nodded, once more looking Mordred over, before running after Elyan and Merlin.  

 

His mind was pulsating with fury.  He had just found Merlin, just got him back, only to send him off, frightened and crying.  

 

But Mordred needed to feel Morgana’s life leave her under his own hands. 


	19. Dilapidation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: somewhat graphic descriptions

Chaos prevailed.  His mind felt like it was slowly shattering.  One moment everything was quiet, Mordred was pacing in front of him, occasionally stopping to touch Merlin’s cheek, eyes full of sorrow.  In the next moment, the room sounded as if it could barely hold the ceiling up. Metal scraping against walls, cries were called out. In and out his mind flitted these realities to him.  Which was the true one?

 

They seemed to be bleeding together.  Mordred would be there as destruction seemed to threaten to invade, then everything would disappear.  

 

“Merlin, please, you must accept me.  I have always been here for you. This will be for your benefit, I promise.”  Mordred lifted his chin. Merlin couldn’t focus on his face. His head pounded as terror flowed through him.  Nothing was making sense anymore.

 

The scraping was getting louder.  Thuds could be heard on the other side of the door.  “What’s happening?” Merlin asked.

 

“Your mind is unable to stay like this for much longer.  Please, Merlin, forget everything. You only need me, I am the only one you can trust.”

 

Merlin needed the banging to stop.  He heard voices on the other side. Something was coming.  If this didn’t end, he might be gone for good. He didn’t know what could be causing such a racket.  Mordred had said he couldn’t hold on much longer.

 

What did he have to hold onto anymore?

 

Nothing.  Mordred had always been the one he could count on.  Could trust. The only one. If Mordred said it was OK to let go, to let himself be consumed, then he would do it.  Mordred knew what was best.

 

Merlin nodded.

 

“I need you to say it.  You need to say that you accept me, and only me.” Mordred said.

 

“I -,” Merlin felt a presence enter his mind, frantic and moving at fast speeds and sharp angles.  He gasped, the sudden invasion ripping at the seams of his head. 

 

He shook his head wildly, trying to get rid of it.  “Merlin, you need to say it. Say it now!” Mordred was getting impatient, shaking Merlin’s shoulders.  

 

“It’s not real, this isn’t real, none of it is,” Merlin began to mutter.  The presence that had been in his mind was only his way of comforting himself.  The Mordred in front of him was an illusion. The chaos he heard was the mandrakes trying to tear him apart.  It all felt real, and yet, he didn’t know if any of it was.

 

The door to the room busted down. _  This is it, _ Merlin thought. _  This is the moment I will be devoured.  I don’t know what form it will take, this image that the mandrakes will taunt me with, but whatever you think Merlin, whatever you feel, it is all in your mind. _

 

Suddenly the door vanished from the floor, locked back in place.  Silence filled the void. 

 

“It isn’t real, don’t believe it, it isn’t real.”

 

He felt a tug above him.  He tensed, prepared for something to pop out at any second.  To have claws dig in deep, teeth devour him, a sword run him through, to be burnt alive.  This was it. He was going to be consumed. 

 

He felt himself fall to the ground, unable to get in any air.  Heat surrounded him, his body already broken into a sweat. A crack echoed within his skull.  His mind felt light, exhaustion overcoming him and darkness overtaking his vision.

 

He thought he heard voices.  He recognized them, but who did they belong to? He knew he was moving, could feel the air rush across his face.  His mind wouldn’t focus. What was happening? Had he finally snapped?

 

He tried to open his eyes, move his arms.  He had to know what was happening to him. Where was he?  Who was with him? Had the mandrakes finally taken him?

 

He felt light penetrate through his eyelids.  A small groan escaped him. He wasn’t going to be able to see what was happening, the headache already coming back with the sudden change of light.  He strained to listen to his surroundings, focusing in on the voices speaking.

 

They were familiar.  He knew them, knew them well.  Only when he heard the voice that had been with him in that cell did it finally occur to him who was there.

 

“Mordred,” he rasped out, slowly bringing his arm up in the direction he heard the voice.  It hurt to talk, to breathe, every nerve screamed as he moved. It couldn’t be real though.  Mordred wasn’t here. His Mordred? Was it his Mordred or was it mandrake Mordred? “Is it you?”  His mind still felt light, felt as if chains had unshackled themselves from it. The presence that was there earlier still persisted.  It was Mordred, wasn’t it? He reached out to the link, allowing the smallest sliver of hope to exist. “Is it really you?”

 

The light disappeared from against his eyelids, hands gently resting on his face.  A cozy warmth engulfed his magic. Merlin slit his eyes open, allowing them to adjust before slowly widening them.  Mordred’s face hovered above his, lit up brighter than a summer’s sky. “Yes, it is, it is really me.” Merlin didn’t let the hope that persisted take root though, there was no way to know for sure, the illusion of Mordred had confused Merlin well enough, he had no grasp on who he was anymore.  Then he saw the tears filling Mordred’s eyes, his voice shaking as he confirmed what Merlin desperately wished to know. “The mandrakes are gone. They won’t torment you anymore, it’s me, I am here.”

 

Relief flooded Merlin, his breaths coming in ragged as he became aware of the freedom his mind now felt.  He wasn’t chained in the room, he was outside. He was here, Mordred had come for him. Despite the pain he was in, he lifted his arm, wrapping it around Mordred’s back, encouraging the man to embrace him back.  When Mordred let himself be guided down, Merlin clasped onto him, afraid to lose the lifeline he was just granted.

 

Merlin shook, both with laughter and sobs, he could hardly believe it.  Guilt overwhelmed him as he remembered his departure from Camelot, the hidden lies he had spoken when he knocked Mordred out that night.  His grip on Mordred’s hair tightened.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Merlin sobbed.  He wasn’t worth being rescued, he had abandoned his lover, not even giving him the option to come, or to even let him listen.  His decisions were why he was here in the first place. All of this was his fault. “I am so, so sorry.”

 

“Shh,” Mordred had hushed into Merlin’s ear.  “Don’t be sorry for anything,” he whispered. “You’re with me, you’re safe.” 

 

Merlin closed his eyes, drinking in the presence of the man he didn’t deserve.  Never again, he vowed to himself, would he let this man out of his sight or put him through this again.  He thought he would have been fine if he knew Mordred was safe, away from him. He hadn’t realized how false that was.  He needed him, Mordred was a part of him.

 

He felt Mordred turn his head, listening to Gwaine no doubt. Sooner than Merlin cared for, Mordred broke away.  

 

“Merlin.”  The Druid’s eyes had changed, something akin to anger flashing within a sea of despair.  Merlin felt himself shrink back into Elyan’s arms at the change of demeanor. “I need to go help Arthur with Morgana.  Elyan, Gwaine, take him back to Kilgharrah, have him fly him back to Camelot as fast as he can.” He held his hand up, voice hardened. “Out of all of us, I have a chance of beating her.  Magic can only be defeated with magic. I will end this once and for all.”

 

“No,” Merlin reached out for Mordred’s arm, anything to keep Mordred in his line of sight. He just got the real Mordred back.  If he left him now, he wasn’t sure if his sanity would last. He also knew Morgana. Knew what she was capable of. She wouldn’t think twice of killing Mordred.  Emrys was the one foretold to be Morgana’s doom, not Mordred. He couldn’t let Mordred rush to his death on his behalf, he wouldn’t have it. He grasped onto Mordred tighter.  “Don’t leave me.”

 

Mordred’s hand came up, gently pushing back his hair out of his face.  “I’m sorry, Merlin. I have to do this.” He felt Mordred take the hand clasped around his arm, gently prying it off.  Merlin did his best to hang on, but the limb protested at the slight exertion he gave. “Don’t worry, I will come back to you, I promise.”  Mordred was no longer looking at him, gently putting his arm back on his torso. “Make sure he gets back safe,” he aimed at Elyan.

 

“You have my word,” Elyan confirmed, turning around and speed walking away from Mordred.  Merlin’s breaths were coming out sharper, faster. This wasn’t it, he wouldn’t allow it to be it.

 

“No, Mordred don’t!”  Merlin tried to yell, but to no avail, Elyan kept running, leaving Merlin to panic at the loss of his vision of Mordred.

 

“Mordred!” he continued to yell the Druid’s name in an attempt to get him to come with them.

 

“Don’t worry,” Elyan murmured.  “I’m sure he can hold out against Morgana.  We know about the both of you, your magic. If anyone has a fighting chance it will be him.”  

 

Merlin continued to struggle out of Elyan’s arms.  “You don’t understand, he can’t fight her off. She is too powerful, only I can.  Please, you have to let me go back.” He writhed at odd positions, fire shooting up his veins at his failed attempts to get Elyan to release him.

 

“Not a chance, you can’t even sit up on your own, we are taking you back.” Gwaine jogged up next to them.  “Stop struggling, Merlin, you will continue to afflict yourself if you do this.”

 

“I won’t let him die!” Merlin shouted.  “I can’t lose him!” He pushed his arms against Elyan’s chest, causing the knight to slow down at the sudden weight change. 

 

“Merlin, you can’t help him right now.  Have a little faith in him.” Gwaine started walking towards them to help Elyan out.

 

Merlin saw a torch stand only a few feet from where they stood.  Quickly, he sent it Gwaine’s direction, hitting him forcefully in the back of the head and effectively knocking him out.  Elyan didn’t have a chance to react when Merlin sent it his way. 

 

A cry escaped Merlin as he landed onto the dirt floor of the fortress, the week’s torture thrashing about in his body.  He turned onto his side, hands placed on the ground. Every muscle was torn to shreds. Shakily, Merlin dragged his upper body off the ground.   _ I’m not going to just sit here and do nothing _ .   _ My friends need me.  Arthur needs me. Mordred needs me.  _  He got on one leg, collapsing as it gave out and sent him back to the ground.  He crawled back towards the entrance, only looking over his shoulder once to check that Gwaine and Elyan would be alright.  As soon as he got to the entrance of the building, he propped himself up against the wall, using it as his sole support. He reached within his mind, finding Mordred’s presence a floor above him.  _  He isn’t terribly far, I can make it. _  He put one foot on the steps, groaning as it wobbled and threatened to collapse on him again.   _ I will make it. _  He dragged himself up the stairs, and could only pray that at the rate he was going, he would make it to the others in time to save everyone.

 

After all, it was his destiny.


	20. Miscalculation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: some graphic descriptions

Mordred’s breaths were rapid and heavy as he skidded in front of the entrance to the main meeting room.  He had scoured the whole floor, whipping around corners as fast as his leg could take him and praying he wouldn’t see all his friends’ corpses.

 

Morgana was hovering over Arthur, sword poised to run through his heart.  Obviously injured, he tried to push himself back and away from the imposing object.

 

The sword flew across the room as Mordred made his presence known to the Lady Morgana.  Though she startled at the change of events, she didn’t let it show through the wild expression she was wearing.

 

“Well, well.  What do we have here?  Mordred to save the day?”  Her laugh caused Mordred to shiver.  Leon and Percival were lying against walls opposite each other, unconscious.  Morgana kicked Arthur down the few steps that led up to where a throne would be.  Mordred winced as he heard the grunts come from his king. Blood could be seen trailing the path of his body.  He quickly mumbled the cauterization spell, hoping whatever wound was inflicted on him wasn’t fatal. Arthur cried out at the sudden burn he probably felt, Morgana still laughing maniacally.  Mordred stood his ground, the witch steadily coming closer to him.

 

“You crossed a line, Morgana,” he said through gritted teeth.  “I knew hatred and bitterness had consumed you, but you let it engulf every last drop of love you had left.”  

 

“Ha,” Morgana exclaimed. “What do you know of love, child?  Has this world ever shown you an ounce of kindness? To you?” She screeched, “to your kind?!”  

 

“Yes, it has!” Mordred took a step towards her, unwilling to let his injury keep him from confronting the witch.  Morgana stopped in her tracks, only a foot away. His fists were balled up, shaking. “It has shown you kindness too!  But you have been so entrenched in the bowels of revenge you have become the spitting image of Uther himself!”

 

“How dare you!” She took a few steps forward, closing the gap between them, faces only inches apart.  “I am trying to set right the wrongs that Uther condemned on our kind! Can you not see that?!”

 

“And you would torture, brainwash, and kill your own in order to achieve that goal?!” His voice echoed off the walls.  Mordred bent his head closer to Morgana’s, his hands were itching to close in around her frail neck.

 

Morgana’s voice lowered.  “Oh, Merlin you mean?” Her hands crept up Mordred’s armor, playing with the hanging strands of fabric and chainmail she could find.  “He stands in the way of what I try to achieve. You should know that. After all, you of all people should know he is Emrys, given your ability to sense his presence.”  Her eyes glanced into Mordred’s. “Besides, there are casualties in war, are there not?” 

 

The control Mordred had on his impulses vanished.  His hands quickly shot up to Morgana’s neck, the force pushing her back, causing Mordred to land on top of her when they hit the ground.  He could feel her writhing under his grasp, her neck tense as it tried to welcome air that was now uninvited, choking sounds emitting from her.  Her hands traveled up his arms, trying to pry them off, eyes watering and filled with fear. He tightened his grip, staring at the green orbs, waiting for the glassy film to cover them and signify her passing.

 

His victory was short lived as the air surrounding him became unbreathable.  His vision blurred as water began to encase him, traveling up his nose and into his lungs.  His grip on Morgana slackened. He could feel her snaking her way out from under him, the coughs from her were muted as the water continued to assault him.  He brought his hands up to his face, panicking, unsure of how to undo the spell. He thrashed around on the floor, black spots in his vision growing bigger. Just when he thought his heart might stop beating, the water disappeared.  Turning onto his side, he coughed up the water that resided in his lungs, desperately inhaling the sweet air that burnt his throat.

 

“I don’t want to kill you, Mordred.”  Mordred froze. That voice was the one he remembered from his childhood.  The one that took care of him when Uther was hunting him. The one that didn’t show fear as she discovered her newfound abilities.  The one that always seemed so motherly and gentle to him. He lifted his head toward the voice, Morgana’s figure slowly becoming clearer as he blinked the water out of his eyes.

 

She inched closer to him.  “Join me, Mordred. We can let magic back into the kingdom.  We could rule the way we see fit.” He felt her hands caress his face.  “A world where all creatures can roam free. I can build that for us, Mordred.  Please, join me.”

 

That was all Mordred ever wanted.  A place where he could be himself. Where he didn’t have to hide and worry about being executed for who he was.  People would be free to do what they like. A place where Merlin and Mordred could be with each other, nothing in their way. It sounded beautiful.

 

_ Merlin _ . His face hardened as Morgana’s features came into clear vision.  “I’m sorry. If this was the person I knew when I was a child, then I would have followed you no matter the cause.  The person back then had a big heart, was willing to do what was right. But the person here before me now, I do not know or trust.  And I’m not willing to join someone like that.” He threw her back off of him before she could retaliate, sending her flying across the room.  

 

A crack reverberated as she landed.  Mordred observed her for several moments before sitting fully upright.  His sword was a bit out of arm's reach. He dragged himself to it, using it once again as a cane to bring himself up to standing.  He looked over at Morgana, who still hadn’t moved.

 

_ Did I do it, _ he thought.   _ Is she dead?  _  He limped over to her, the scraping of the sword on the stone floor grating his ears.  He only made it a few feet from her before he heard a rattling behind him.

 

He turned in time to see two daggers breaking at full speed towards his chest.  He ducked, the blades barely skimming his hair as they passed by him.

 

“If you won’t join, then you will join the rest of them in the afterlife.”  Morgana slowly brought herself to standing, joints symphonically cracking. Mordred raised his free arm.  He didn’t know what to do, what spell to throw at her. He needed to do something, anything, before she got the chance to kill him.  His arms trembled, the stress of survival surmounting his mind. He began chanting, anything. The first thing that came to mind that could blow her off her feet.

 

A sickening slice was heard directly behind him.  Mordred froze. A second sound similar to it came.  Ice shot up his back, warmth dripping down it. He looked up at Morgana’s face, her smile wider, her eyes triumphant.  He took a step towards her. A liquid spluttered up from his throat. He fell to his knees, hands meeting the ground, blood pooling in front of his face as he continued to hack it up.  His body shivered as the realization that the daggers she had sent after him earlier had recircled and pierced him.

 

Mordred stayed on his hands and knees.  He needed to push himself up. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.  He was supposed to kill her. He needed to kill her. This was nothing but a minor setback.  He took a few steady inhales through his nose, forcing himself to push himself up to standing position.  

 

His face slammed into the stone cold floor.  A cry ripped out of him as his back spasmed. Only when Morgana’s foot came crashing down on the hilt of the daggers again did it occur to him what was happening. His eyes flashed gold in a weak attempt to push her away, but he could feel his magic and life draining from him.  She merely stumbled back. He tried to crawl away, his body refusing any compromise than the position it was currently in. 

 

“You could have been with me Mordred.  We could have built the world we have so longed for.  But you chose this.” His scalp burnt as his head was lifted off the ground, Morgana’s face engulfing the entirety of his vision.  “And this will be where you die.” Morgana raised her hand up towards his neck, her magic suffocating him. He gasped, choked, attempted to send her flying, anything he could, but it was futile.

 

He had only wished he could have told Merlin he loved him once more before he died.

 

Suddenly, waves of air assaulted his throat.  He coughed as his lungs tried to fill up quickly.  His head was pounding, his vision blurred, the presence around his throat no longer there.  While he could not see what happened, his ears didn’t betray him.

 

“If you think - for one second - I will let you hurt - any of them - you are far stupider than I thought, Morgana,” Merlin’s voice rasped out across the hall.

 

Mordred’s body went rigid.   _ No _ , he thought.  He forced his eyes to focus, forced his head to turn in the direction of the voice.   _ He can’t be here, he needs to be in Camelot _ .  Mordred forced himself to focus the little energy he had left in cauterizing the wounds in his back, the burning no longer affecting him.  Their link was still present, but he didn’t have the ability to communicate through it in the state he was in. He found Merlin in his line of vision, hobbling his way towards  Morgana. 

 

“Merlin, don’t, you aren’t supposed to be here,” Mordred got out, his esophagus still burning.  He tried to push his upper body off the floor, a wave of stinging sensations keeping him tethered down.   _ You were supposed to get out safe with Elyan and Gwaine, why are you here, _ he thought. 

 

Morgana didn’t allow Merlin the chance to answer as she flung a newfound dagger in Merlin’s direction.  Merlin raised both of his hands, forcing the air to stop the blade just short of his face, before turning it around and sending it to its original sender.  Morgana barely had enough time to flick the dagger away with her own magic. 

 

“You think you can challenge me, Merlin? Or should I say, Emrys?” she sneered.  

 

“If you know who I am, then why don’t you cower?  After all, it is fated that I am your doom.” Merlin’s voice barely raised above a whisper, but the commanding power behind it raised the hairs on Mordred’s arms as he continued to attempt to raise himself off the ground.

 

“Why would I cower in front of someone who I’ve had locked in my basement for a week?  Who couldn’t manage to break himself out of the enchanted chains?” She laughed, meandering her way towards Merlin.  “I mean really, that’s basic work. If you couldn’t even do that, then what is there to fear? Just an old wives tale,” she spat out.

 

“You’re wrong, Morgana,” Merlin said.  “If I were you, I would be more cautious about my fate.  Sometimes you can’t outrun it.” The room shook, Morgana stumbling, Mordred hissing as the daggers moved within his back.  He managed to get himself into a sitting position. A hole blasted through the ceiling, lighting crackling down towards Merlin, who was absorbing it and channeling the charge in the direction of the witch.  Mordred watched in awe as Morgana threw up her hands, a shield of air that was only just withstanding the torrent. 

 

Mordred could see her blockade getting stronger.  Nature’s most powerful weapon wouldn’t touch her if her shield continued to stay up.  Mordred closed his eyes, an old spell rolling off his tongue the druids had taught him long ago.  Vines burst through the stones under Morgana’s feet, wrapping themselves around her lower body, shooting up to her arms, and successfully throwing her off long enough for her shield to be lowered.  Her body began to convulse as the electrical current swam through it. Merlin eventually let up on the display. A limp Morgana was entwined within the vines. 

 

Mordred let them recede, his vision continuously blacking out and coming to.  He looked to where Morgana was, where Merlin was, unable to make out the figures or tell what the outcome was.  

 

Morgana’s laugh filled the room.  Mordred tried to find Merlin, only to see a figure collapse to the floor, drained of his magical energy, his life force slowly leaving him.  

 

Mordred’s heart beat rapidly.  It was over. Neither of them could conjure up anything else to fight her with.  Both of them were close to death, Mordred could feel himself being drained. He could feel Merlin’s presence growing weaker.  He tried to use his remaining efforts to drag himself towards Merlin.

 

“Merlin - please.”  Blood spluttered up his mouth and through his nose.  He coughed it up, refusing to slow his pace.  _ I need to see you, to see your face one last time.  Please. _

 

“It was a nice run, both of you.”  Morgana stood over Merlin.

 

“No.”  Tears had broken through.  He could barely see where he was going as he continued to fight the darkness that was trying to welcome him to the other side.

 

“I’m sorry it had to end like this.  We all could have been great friends, I’m sure of it.”  She raised her hand towards Merlin’s neck. His presence was draining faster.

 

“No!” Mordred tried to yell.  He couldn’t watch Merlin die. Numbness gnawed at him as he tried to crawl faster towards the body that contained his only happiness in the world. 

 

A gasp echoed throughout the hall as the sound of flesh being run through pierced Mordred’s ears.  His attempts to crawl were halted as the blade of a sword shone through Morgana’s chest. Silver chainmail rattled, a glimpse of golden blonde hair was seen behind the craze of raven black, and the rundown voice of his king cut through the air.

 

“No mortal blade can kill you, Morgana.  And you may be invincible to some of the world’s most cruel ways.  But even you can’t outrun a blade that can conquer the dead.” Arthur shoved the Excalibur deeper through Morgana’s back.  “I’m sorry it had to be this way, I loved you, Morgana. You will always be in my heart.” He drew the blade out, Morgana leaning into Arthur as he guided her down to the floor.  She gurgled as blood filled her mouth. 

 

Mordred pushed forward towards Merlin, as he heard Morgana choke out her last words.

 

“It’s ok.  I loved all of you too.”  The words clenched Mordred’s heart, the tears burning his face as he heard the woman who had been so kind and generous to him in his youth, who had lost herself in wrath and revenge, utter the words he had so longed to hear from her and take her final breath.  He knew Arthur wasn’t in a better state. He had known her for years, grew up with her. She was a sister to him. He heard the deep breaths from Arthur, the attempts at reigning the snot in before it had the chance to leave. Mordred reached Merlin’s body, his presence no longer within Mordred’s mind.

 

“Merlin.”  He clasped his face into his hands, blood and ink still covering up the entirety of the pale skin he knew.  “Merlin please wake up, Merlin.” His tears fell onto Merlin’s face. His thumbs circled Merlin’s cheeks, the tips of his fingers digging into Merlin’s scalp.  “Merlin, I can’t lose you, I can’t. We promised, didn’t we? Didn’t we promise we would be together forever? You can’t leave Merlin.” No response came forth. “You can’t leave.”  Mordred brought his fingers to Merlin’s neck. His pulse was weak, but still there. Mordred tried to pick up the warlock. They needed to get out of here, they didn’t have much time.  Stars danced in Mordred’s vision, his lungs collapsing and no longer providing air as his head collided with the floor. 

 

“Mordred!”  Arthur’s voice was muted.  Merlin’s face was turned towards Mordred’s.  As the darkness grasped his mind and pulled him towards it, he reached out once more towards Merlin, his face brushing the warlock’s cheek.

 

“You can’t leave me,” Mordred muttered.  The agony of it all weighed him down. In a last ditch effort, before he succumbed to the darkness, he did the only thing that came to mind.

 

“O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes,” he muttered.  As his eyes closed and his mind shut down, he heard the beat of Kilgharrah’s wings, and the rumble of the ceiling breaking apart.


	21. Solid Foundation

Merlin had gone through thick and thin to defend Arthur.  He had battled undead armies, drank poisons for his king, even took on a dorocha for his sake.  Never in his life had he felt so sore, weak, and helpless as he did in this moment.

 

He barely opened his eyes when the light assaulted them and he wound them shut again.  Everything rushed to him, the pain at his wrists being almost cut through entirely, the ache from hanging only by his arms for an extended length, his back from being stretched as his legs had given out when he was chained up.  His neck was stiff, his legs unable to move no matter how much he willed them to. The only thing he was able to do was wiggle his fingers and open his eyes.

 

He groaned.  What happened last?  He worked through his memories.  He had knocked Gwaine and Elyan out.  Climbed a horrendous amount of stairs.  Saw Morgana killing Mordred. Sent a wave of lightning after her.  Then nothing. Had it worked? Was he still in the room, left to die?  What happened to Mordred? Arthur? The other knights?

 

_ No _ , Merlin thought, the memory of Morgana stomping on the daggers in Mordred’s back as wounded cries escaped him rushing to his forethoughts.   _ They can’t be dead, I can’t have failed them once more _ .  He shot up out of his stupor, crying out in agony as his body protested the movement.

 

“Merlin!” he heard Mordred’s voice exclaim.  Merlin tried to open his eyes but didn’t have time to take in the surroundings as the pain of the light caused him to clench them shut again.

 

“Merlin, lie back down, please.  You’ve been through a lot, more than anyone could possibly hope to withstand.  You need rest.” He felt Mordred lightly touched his shoulder, trying to guide him back into the bed.  Merlin grasped at the hand. Mordred tensed at the sudden contact.

 

“What -” his voice didn’t work, only the air pushed itself out of his mouth.  Merlin coughed, trying to clear his throat. “What happened to everyone? Where are we?”

 

“It’s alright Merlin, we made it out.  Everyone is alive and counted for, minus Morgana.  We did it, Merlin. She’s gone.” 

 

She’s gone.  Dead. Morgana.  He didn’t know what to feel.  His hand let go of Mordred’s. She wouldn’t torment them anymore.  But it was Merlin’s fault she became twisted. If only he had shown her kindness and ignored everyone’s remarks about her like he had Mordred’s and helped her understand her abilities.  Maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe he did deserve the hell she put him through. 

 

He felt a cup being pushed into his hands.  “Drink, you have been out for a while. It will help with your voice.”  Merlin drank the water, letting the liquid soothe the rough patches in his throat.  

 

“What happened?  All I remember is sending the lightning her way.  My mind is blank after that.” Merlin slit his eyes open, the headache prompting him to shut them again.  He tried to fight it, tried to let them adjust so that he could see again. He extended an arm out in the direction he had heard Mordred’s voice.  “Are you ok?” 

 

Mordred took the flailing hand gently into his own. “I’m fine.  Better than you I’ll say. At least I can stand even if I’m not supposed to.”

 

“Mordred -,”

 

“I know, I know.  If I rest more now I will be healed faster, thank you, mom.”

 

Merlin chuckled.  His heart swelled.  He had missed this. All that time in the cell, all his worst nightmares had come true.  Those close to him told him what he feared. Those he loved hurt him in the worst ways. He knew those were illusions, what he needed to see in order to break.  It made him appreciate what was here with him now.

 

“By the way, speaking of moms, I met yours when we went to Ealdor to find you.”  Merlin was stunned, both that Mordred had spoken to his mom and that they had gone to Ealdor to find him first.  They must have just missed each other. “She is quite lovely. Gave me her blessing to be with you.” Merlin heard a rustling, most likely Mordred reaching up into his hair.  He was probably embarrassed at the revelation, Merlin could imagine a slight blush gilding his cheeks. A flutter of emotions tore at Merlin, he was blissful of this news yet dispirited at how events played out. 

 

“Anyways, after you passed out,” Mordred continued.  Merlin was able to take in the quilt that laid over him.  It was his quilt. They must be back in his room then. “Arthur managed to stab Morgana with his sword.  Which, coincidentally, was one forged in a dragon’s breath. I think you missed telling me that Arthur had such a sword, Merlin.”

 

“Did I?  Slipped my mind.”  So Arthur defeated her in the end.  Not Merlin. It was Merlin’s destiny though, was it not?  Wasn’t he supposed to be Morgana’s doom? How was that possible if it ended up being Arthur?  Did he even have a purpose in the grand scheme of all of this anymore?

 

He sat here, broken, beaten, battered, useless.  He didn’t know if Arthur wanted to see him. As far as he knew, he was still banished, regardless of being back in Camelot, his room now in full view, his eyes adjusted.  All he had done in the past week was bring misery and misfortune to everyone he loved and cared for. 

 

“Why did you come?” he blurted out.  The agony and despair of all the events seeped into his voice.  He wanted to continue on, ask why Mordred hadn’t stayed with Arthur, why he risked his life for someone who left him with no notice, nothing but a sleeping spell to keep him from following.  Somehow, he managed to ask it all in that one question.

 

The room was silent.  Dread filled Merlin. He didn’t want to hear the answer.

 

“Why wouldn’t I?”  Merlin turned his head towards Mordred, his breath hitching as he took in his appearance.  A bandage was wrapped around his head, his face and upper body bruised, bandages wrapping around his chest, and another wrapped around his leg.  A makeshift crutch laid against the stool he was sitting on. The fact that he was near Merlin’s bedside and not resting himself gnawed at Merlin.  Before he could say anything though, Mordred continued. “You are everything to me, Merlin. If you aren’t in my life, then there is no life.”

 

“Mordred,” Merlin’s throat constricted as he took in the pain reflected in Mordred’s eyes.  He had hurt the young man in ways he couldn’t have fathomed. “I’m so sorry for leaving you like that.  I don’t deserve you, your kindness. I would understand if you couldn’t be with me after what I did.”

 

“Merlin, stop.” He did so, looking from the sheets he was playing with back up to Mordred.  “I just traveled across Camelot and Essetir to find you and bring you home. If that doesn’t tell you how much I want to be with you, then nothing will.”

 

Merlin’s hand went up to the necklace, Mordred’s eyes following the movement.  Merlin saw the soft smile relax his features. He reflected the smile back. “However,” Mordred continued, “I can’t deny that a few times you were with Morgana, the link between us became stronger than I could have imagined, and I saw,” he cut himself off.  Merlin became aware that Mordred probably saw the brutality of having his magic constantly ripped out of him just to be plunged back in and repeated. He had tried to block it from passing through the connection, but he had lost control. It had messed Merlin up, he couldn’t imagine what Mordred had felt witnessing it.

 

“Mordred, I don’t know how much you saw, but I’m sorry you had to witness any of it.  Having my magic constantly ripped out was -.”

 

“I saw me.”  Merlin paused.   _ What does he mean he saw... _  “I know what the mandrakes did to you.  I know what...what I...what my projection…” and Merlin finally realized what it was that shook Mordred up.  His body tensed, remembering the mandrake Mordred feeling him up as every part of him screamed stay away, tormented already by the false perceptions of his friends and the physical pain of being held up like a pig for slaughter.  How had he seen that? Merlin remembered that he had taken comfort in a warmth within his mind. Had that also been the connection between Mordred and Merlin? Had he subjected Mordred to that torture as well when he sought refuge?  

 

Mordred looked up at Merlin, quietly speaking.  “I understand if you don’t want to continue this.  If the memory of what happened has bled over into real life.  If you can’t look at me the same, I understand. I only want what’s best for you.”

 

Merlin’s eyes widened at Mordred’s confession.  “No.” He moved to grab both Mordred’s hands, embracing them within his own.  He couldn’t lose Mordred. “No, I need you Mordred. I know that wasn’t you. Yes, it might take time for me to get over what the mandrakes did and said to me, a lot of it seemed true.  Is true.” He saw Mordred ready to interrupt, but he wasn’t going to allow him to deny that. “But I know that wasn’t you. I know who you are. And I need the real you more than ever. Please don’t leave me.”

 

_ Don’t leave me _ .  That’s what Mordred said as Merlin had laid in the fortress, dying.  He had barely heard the words, thought it was a dream. Merlin let go of Mordred’s hands.  Had he really just pleaded Mordred not to leave him, after he just did that to him? Mordred started for Merlin’s hands again as Merlin let his thoughts slip out.

 

“Like I left you.”

 

Mordred finally took Merlin’s hands in one hand, his other wrapping behind Merlin’s head, bringing their foreheads together.  His breath lingered on Merlin’s lips as he spoke. “Merlin, I know why you did it. Yes, I was mad, upset with you at first, I couldn’t believe you did such a thing.  But if I was still upset with you, I wouldn’t have come after you. I need you as much as you need me. We can figure this out, Merlin, I promise.” Mordred took the necklace around Merlin’s neck and raised it up slightly into their vision.  “I made a promise to you with this, that through thick and thin we would make this work. I still plan to uphold that promise if you do as well. Do you, Merlin?”

 

His lips trembled as the tears flowed down his face, nodding in assent.  “Yes, Mordred.” He took the hand that was behind his head, holding it between them as the obsidian ring gleamed in the sunlight.  “I made a similar promise to you with this. I would love nothing more than to uphold it.” 

 

Mordred beamed, the infectious smile bleeding over onto Merlin’s face.  Mordred leaned in closer. Merlin felt the tentativeness of him as he offered a kiss, allowing Merlin the chance to refuse.  He was too caught up in his relief, in his pestilent love of this man, and he closed the gap, passionately kissing the only one that mattered to him.

 

“Ahem,” Merlin shoved Mordred away from him as fast as he could, the uninvited voice cutting through the room.  He looked at the intruder to see Arthur standing at the door, awkwardly positioned as to show his uncertainty of if he should stay or go. 

 

“Arthur, I can explain, its nothing, its -” Merlin feared for Mordred, Merlin had already been cast out of Camelot, but he couldn’t let the same fate or worst happen to Mordred as well.

 

“Merlin,” Arthur interrupted.  “It’s fine, I’ve known for a while.  Just, try to keep it under wraps when in public.  I hate having to tell you that, I want you both happy, but I don’t know how the public would react to allowing two men together.”  Merlin’s jaw dropped open, Mordred bent his head down in embarrassment. “Mordred, do you mind leaving us to talk for a bit. You shouldn’t be up and about anyway, you need rest as much as he does.”

 

Mordred looked at Merlin, sending a comforting smile to him and nodding.  “Yes, Sire, though I feel fine, I promise.”

 

“Mordred,” Merlin said. “You look awful, I was going to tell you to rest earlier, but didn’t get the chance.”  Mordred pouted. “Go, rest, I’ll be fine.”

 

Mordred nodded.  He grabbed the crutch, trying to cover up the hiss that escaped his mouth as he limped out of the room.  Merlin saw the edges of a scar sticking out of the bandage ends of his back, sickened at the memory of Morgana stomping at the daggers.

 

When he finally left, Arthur shut the door and sat on the stool Mordred was previously on.  “You know, he refused to leave your bedside. He hasn’t been cleared to leave his bed yet, but the second he woke up and no one was looking, he was here, watching over you.  We couldn’t get him to leave.”

 

Merlin shook his head.  “He’s stubborn, that one.  Once he sets his mind to something, he’ll follow through with it, no matter what.”

 

“Yeah,” Arthur said, “I noticed it the second I had announced your banishment.  The moment he shot out of his chair I knew he was going to leave, to go after you.  I thought he was going to run me through right there in the hall. I know I would have.”  Arthur tapered off, staring at his hands.

 

When he didn’t continue, Merlin finally decided to come forward with the elephant in the room.  “I’m still banished, aren’t I?”

 

Arthur looked back up at him.  “I’m giving you the chance to explain yourself.  I...I realize that I was harsh with my judgment. I let my anger cloud my decision.  I didn’t give you the opportunity to share your side of the story. All I thought was that my best friend had betrayed me, it’s all I went off of.  I deeply regret it.” Arthur took in a deep breath as he continued. “I accused Mordred of the same thing when I found out about him.” Merlin’s eyes grew wide.  It seemed Mordred had been outed in more ways than one due to Merlin’s terrible judgment calls. “I had told him when we left with him I was searching for you to get answers.”  Arthur looked back into Merlin’s eyes, absorbing the raw pain behind them. “But the truth was I just wanted to hear from my best friend again.”

 

Merlin sucked in the air as he took in those words.  Arthur was willing to listen. Not only because he might have been in the wrong, but because of him.  Of Merlin.

 

Merlin nodded, unsure of where to begin.  “Where do you want me to start?”

 

“How about from the beginning?  When you first learned magic.”

 

“This will be quite a long story.”

 

Arthur chuckled, Merlin following suit.  “Good thing I’ve got time.”


	22. Eve of Tomorrow

Merlin stared at the ceiling.  The talk with Arthur the previous day went well, despite the few instances where Arthur either looked murderous or dumbfounded when he confessed to being the old sorcerer.  Arthur assured him that he would be allowed to reside back in Camelot again. He hadn’t said anything regarding magic though.

 

He sighed.  Even if the dreamland didn’t come, even if magic was to continue to be banned, he could live with it.  He was home, his friends alive and well. Gaius had told him he was confined to the bed for at least a week more, if not longer.  He had apparently been out of it for several days already. That was fine with Merlin, it still hurt just reaching for a glass of water on his nightstand.  He was glad for the lack of a mirror in his room. The bandages around his arms, legs, head, and chest told him enough. 

 

Though he was told to rest, sleep didn’t come easy.  Memories of Arthur verbally raking him apart, of Mordred yanking his head up, his friends pointing out his flaws and failures, echoed within his mind.  Each time his eyes closed he was back in the cell, unsure if he ever escaped. He couldn’t tell what was the dream and what wasn’t.

 

It had gotten so distressing during the night, Mordred’s telepathic voice had to wake him out of it.  A few moments later, despite Merlin repeatedly professing he was fine, Mordred had managed to limp into his room, snuggling up on the small bed and caressing Merlin until sleep finally took hold.  He had woken to an empty indent this morning, Mordred undoubtedly leaving after Merlin had fallen asleep. He felt guilty for being a burden, so weak and fragile. Merlin knew there wasn’t anything he could do but rest and heal.  It didn’t help the despair.

 

A light rap at the door startled him out of his thoughts.  He raised his head, Gwen peaking around the door like the shy servant girl she used to be.

 

“Gwen!” Merlin smiled, eased at the presence of his oldest friend in Camelot.

 

“Hey, Merlin.”  She lowered herself onto the stool by his bedside, her features tight.  “How are you feeling, besides the obvious physical ailments?” Merlin opened his mouth to answer.  “And don’t say you are fine, you aren’t. I can see it in your eyes.”

 

Merlin closed his mouth, the smile dissolving.  He looked away from her, laying his head back down on the pillows.  He couldn’t lie to her, she always saw right through them. But the truth was too unbearable for him, he couldn’t bring himself to voice any of it.

 

He felt her hand gently squeeze his resting on the blanket.  “Merlin, please. I can see something is eating away at you. You know you can always talk to me, right?  About anything. I’m here for you.”

 

His eyes burned as he tried to hold back the tears.  He didn’t deserve friends like this. He never had.

 

“Merlin, don’t say that.  You deserve more than us. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”  He hadn’t realized he muttered his thoughts out loud. He glanced up at the warm chocolate eyes that held a breadth of empathy.  She could feel his pain, and she could alleviate it, he knew it. 

 

“I deserve this pain, don’t I?” He couldn’t bring himself to keep the question to his thoughts, his voice croaking at the attempt to reign in his emotions.

 

Gwen brought a hand up to her mouth, a gasp emanating from her.  He had to deserve it. For hiding his true self from Arthur for so long.  For lying to Mordred. For leaving him, breaking his promises to his king and partner.  The least he deserved was the guilt that ate him.

 

“Merlin,” Gwen leaned forward, her hand brushing back his hair.  “No one deserves what you went through. I can’t believe you would say such a thing.  You are such a kind soul, you deserve to be safe and happy.”

 

The tears trailed down his cheeks as he tried to shove it all back in.  “Do you really believe that?”

 

Gwen leaned in closer, lips pursed.  “With all my heart.”

 

Merlin pushed himself up to be seated, Gwen leaning back, choosing to sit next to him on the bed.  He couldn’t stop the sobs, inhaling desperately as he reached for Gwen, who leaned back in and returned the strangled and desperate hug.  They sat there as the sobs poured out, continuing to when no more liquid was left to be drained and he was just a shaky mess. Only when he heard Mordred’s voice in his mind did the sobs quiet down.

_ Merlin, are you ok, what is happening? _

 

He took a couple shaky inhales, steadying his breathing.   _ I’m ok, Gwen is here.  Just an emotional talk is all, I’ll tell you later. _

 

_ Ok, _ he heard his response.   _ I love you. _

 

_ I love you too. _

 

He pulled back from Gwen, wiping his face with the bandages covering his arms in the absence of a tunic.  He shuddered as he got his breathing back under control, pursing his lips as he formulated his thoughts.

 

“It’s just,” he started.  He didn’t know where he was going with this, where he should start.  “I thought for awhile there Arthur hated me. Truly. After the banishment, I didn’t know what to believe anymore.  And then I left everything I loved here, Arthur, you, the knights, Mordred, and I… I don’t know, I thought you all would hate me for doing such a thing.  For leaving without a word, without a thought given.” Merlin stared at the ceiling, inhaling deeply through his nose, the streams refusing to slow down their speed from his nostrils.  “Then I got captured by Morgana. The things I saw, what everyone said…” He shook his head, bringing it down into his hands as he attempted once more to steady himself. Gwen’s hand rubbed circle’s on his back, grounding him back down to this reality.  “There were these mandrakes that brought forth what you feared most. I thought I had enough practice dealing with the darkness within me, but I wasn’t prepared for it. To hear from everyone’s mouths what a failure I was. I am.” Merlin stopped, clutching his hair with the tips of his fingers.  He couldn’t go on.

 

“Shhh, Merlin, it’s alright.  If you don’t want to continue it’s fine.  I’m glad you have said what you have thus far.”  Gwen’s voice calmed his crackling nerves. He rested his head on her shoulder, her hands finding their way to his hair, fingers running through it in small patterns.  “You aren’t a failure. Quite the opposite in fact. If there is anyone who has been more dedicated to Arthur, who has followed through on his promises and works harder than the rest of the castle, it is you, Merlin.”  Merlin shook his head. “I mean it, I wouldn’t say so otherwise, you know me.”

 

“But there had to have been some truth to it, didn’t there?” he weakly said.

 

“Merlin,” Gwen gently took his face into her hands, the intensity of her eyes fixing Merlin’s onto them.  “Just because you saw your worst fears played out doesn’t mean they exist amongst those of us who are here.  The mind plays tricks on itself. It isn’t always right. It overthinks. It lies, deceives not only others, but it’s rightful owner.  But this,” she brought one of her hand’s down to his heart, “will always know what’s best. What is it telling you now?”

 

Merlin’s breath caught in his throat as he let her words wash over him, distracting his attention from his thoughts instead to the atmosphere surrounding him.  The love and warmth the castle emitted swallowed him whole. “It’s,” a smile broke onto his face, “it’s telling me my rightful place is here. Amongst everyone I love.”

 

“And everyone who loves you back.”  Gwen smiled. “I don’t expect you to feel better any time soon.  But know that no matter what, you can always talk to me. I am here for you.  We all are.”

 

Merlin nodded as Gwen brought her hands back to herself.  “Thanks, Gwen.”

 

“You’re welcome, Merlin.”  She stood up, her long hair shimmering in the light it caught that came through his window.  She truly was born for the role of Queen, in form and spirit.

 

As she departed, Merlin leaned back in his bed, allowing his mind to drift and rest in the newfound peace he found within himself.

 

\--

 

Mordred had gone on a hunt for breakfast.  Gaius could make something for Merlin, sure, but there was no better breakfast than the provisions of the King’s kitchens.  And Merlin deserved nothing better than the best for his first morning back from death. Mordred knew he wasn’t supposed to be walking about, his leg still protested the weight, making him dependent on the crutch for the time being.  It ripped at him that he couldn’t return to training soon, that he was also supposedly as bedridden as his lover was. Merlin needed someone whom he could lean on, not someone who would crumble at the slightest shift of weight. No matter the case, Mordred would figure out how to deliver Merlin the best-damned breakfast he could find.

 

He turned the corner, his forehead colliding into Gwaine’s.  A sharp pulse blossomed within his mind.

 

“And where do you think you are off to in that shape, Sir Mordred?” Gwaine remarked.

 

Mordred huffed out.  “It’s none of your business, Gwaine. Now if you will excuse me, I will be off.”  Mordred aimed the crutch to maneuver around Gwaine, only for Gwaine’s leg to block its owner’s path.  Mordred cocked his head in annoyance towards the knight.

 

“You aren’t supposed to be up and about.  Have you seen the state of yourself lately?  You should be lying in a bed praying that Arthur will let you back into training soon, not prancing around the hallways and inevitably making your injuries worse.”  

 

Mordred lightly battered Gwaine’s head, trying to signal that he didn’t want to meander and talk.  “Look, I know that I’m a mess and shouldn’t be here, but I want to get Merlin something and I swear if you keep me from getting it, I will cut you were you stand, and that’s not an empty threat.” 

 

“Oooh,” Gwaine leaned in closer to Mordred, only causing Mordred to roll his eyes at the ghastly expression on Gwaine’s face.  “What could young lover boy be getting his damsel in distress?” 

 

“Shut up,” Mordred pushed Gwaine’s shoulder, effectively putting Gwaine off balance enough for Mordred to slide by.  Gwaine was quick though, grabbing Mordred’s shoulder to halt him.

 

“Wait up, I’m only teasing you.”  Mordred deadpanned, his death glare not letting up as Gwaine released him.  “I can help. What is it you are trying to get?”

 

Mordred looked down, heat rising to his cheeks as he realized how stupid his answer would probably seem to anyone but him.  “I was going to get him breakfast,” he mumbled.

 

“What was that? I didn’t catch it.” Gwaine said.

 

Mordred took in a breath.  “I said I was going to get him breakfast.”  A silence passed. “From the King’s kitchens.”  More silence. “You know, something nice. I doubt he has had anything nice the past week.”

 

A chuckle escaped Gwaine.  “You know, I never took you for a romantic, but holy hell is it plastered all over your face right now.”  Mordred could imagine the blush that probably engulfed his facial features and continued staring at the floor, frustration slowly building up.  “But alright, I’ll help you.”

 

Mordred looked up at Gwaine, meeting his sincere and sweet smile.  Mordred beamed. “Really?” 

 

“Yeah, why not.  I don’t think you can carry it back to his rooms with that crutch.  I’ll even let this escapade of yours slide by and have you escort me to the kitchens.  You probably know what he likes best. I’ll smuggle it out for ya.” 

 

Mordred chuckled.  “Thanks, Gwaine.” He looked up at the friendly eyes.  “I mean it. Thanks, for everything.”

 

Gwaine clapped his hand on Mordred’s shoulder.  “Don’t worry about it kid. Just know, that no matter what, you can come to me if you need anything.” He bent forward, a bit of seriousness slipping into his tone.  “And I mean anything. If you ever need to talk to someone about everything that has happened, about you and Merlin, your magic, or just need a friendly drunk to get your spirits up, I’m here for you.  You understand?”

 

Mordred felt his eyes wet at the statements.  He never truly had this kind of friendship with anyone, where he could confide everything about himself and not be judged.  Only Merlin had ever offered that. Now there was one more person he could add to the list. Who knows, maybe more would be added.  The day was looking up.

 

“Thank you, Gwaine, you are a true friend.”

 

Gwaine nodded.  “Now, let’s head off to the kitchens.”

 

Mordred allowed Gwaine to talk his ear off on the journey.  Just before they reached the kitchens though, a wave of anxiety crashed through him.  Fear, sadness, guilt washed over him, weighing him down. It wasn’t his own though, it was someone else’s.  Merlin’s.

 

He froze outside of the kitchens, adrenaline rushing through him as he tried to read the situation.  Had Merlin panicked at his sudden disappearance? Was something happening to Merlin? He had to know, had to make sure. 

 

_ Merlin, are you ok, what is happening?  _ When he didn’t get a response, he considered abandoning his kitchen mission altogether.  Merlin’s distress levels were quite worrisome.

 

Finally, Merlin responded, the emotional turmoil slowing its pace.   _ I’m ok, Gwen is here.  Just an emotional talk is all, I’ll tell you later.   _

 

Mordred exhaled, his body relaxing as the situation became clearer.  He felt stupid for reacting the way he did, but he couldn’t help it, not after the events that had recently occurred.

 

“What’s wrong, Mordred?” Gwaine had noticed his abrupt stop.  Mordred came to, quickly responding to Merlin with a quick  _ I love you _ before answering Gwaine.

 

He was about to brush off the sudden event and respond with ‘nothing,’ when the conversation he just had with Gwaine entered his mind.   _ If you need to talk about anything, I am here. _

 

He sighed, allowing himself to open up to his friend for once.  “It was Merlin. He and I have a telepathic bond, as you are probably aware of now after everything that has happened.  I can feel his magic and emotions depending on how strong they are. I suddenly felt him in great distress and it bothered me.  I stopped to talk to him and see if everything was alright. He assured me it was and made me aware of what was happening, Gwen is having a serious talk with him right now.”

 

Gwaine stood there, bewilderment crossing his face.  “That’s impressive. I knew the telepathy thing existed, but I wasn’t aware of how it worked.  I’m still not sure I understand, but it’s nice that you guys have that, you know?”

 

Mordred smiled.  “Yeah, I guess. It has its ups and downs like all things.”

 

“Of course,” Gwaine said.  “Well, if Gwen is giving him a serious talk then that wonderful breakfast may be just the thing to cheer him up.”  He grabbed the handle of the door. He lowered his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “What do I need to snatch?” 

 

Mordred laughed, rattling off the list and watching Gwaine salute him as he charged through the doors, determined to help out a friend in need.

 

\--

 

Merlin was just managing to drift to sleep when a voice broke through his thoughts.

 

_ Is it ok to come in, Merlin?  I don’t want to surprise or disturb you if it isn’t a good time. _

 

A light chuckle escaped Merlin as he pushed himself up to sit.   _ Of course, you are always welcome. _

 

_ I should warn you, I’m not alone.  Gwaine is here, as well as Arthur who we ran into on the way back.  Said he wants to talk to the both of us. _

 

Merlin’s face split into a smile as he imagined Mordred’s annoyed face at the fact that he had to share Merlin’s time with anyone else at all.   _ That’s fine, come in all of you. _

 

The door to his room opened, Arthur pushing it and allowing Mordred to hobble in after him, Gwaine trailing in with a platter filled with food.  Merlin’s eyes grew wide as he saw the eggs, bacon, biscuits, and fruit that adorned the plate.

 

“Before you go singing me love ballads,” Gwaine loftily said as he set down the platter in Merlin’s lap, “I should tell you that while I may have helped in the culmination of all these items, it was Mordred’s idea to have a tasty, romantic meal in bed for his damsel in distress that was most recently rescued.” 

 

“Gwaine!” Merlin laughed heartily as Mordred’s face turned redder by the second.  “Don’t listen to anything this dolt has to say.”

 

“Thank you Mordred, it’s lovely.  And you too, Gwaine, for helping him out.”  Gwaine bowed deeply as Mordred scoffed and eye-rolled at his dramatic antics.  

 

“Well, my duty here is done, I will leave the three of you to your discussions.” Gwaine gave a short wave as he briskly walked out the door, closing it gently behind him.

 

An awkward silence filled the room as Merlin began munching on his breakfast.  He wanted to moan at it just to tease Mordred, but with Arthur in the room, that idea flew out the window.

 

“Well,” Mordred’s annoyed tone broke the silence.  “What is it you needed to talk to us about?” 

 

“First of all, I am your King and you will not address me in that manner, Sir Mordred,” Arthur chided at him.

 

Merlin budged in before Mordred could have the audacity to apologize.  “Sorry, Sir Royal Prat.” 

 

Arthur turned to him, eyebrows risen into his bangs and hands on his hips.  “If you weren’t injured beyond repair I would have thrown something at you for that.”

 

“Looks like I get a free pass then, right?” Merlin pleaded, head angled to give the impression of innocence.  Mordred snickered at the feigned look, Arthur scoffing at Merlin’s challenge.

 

“Once you are cleared to work, I swear you will wish you had died back there,” Arthur said, though it lacked bite and soon all three of them were laughing at the bantering.

 

“Anyways, I wanted to let the both of you know that I have been considering the laws on magic.”  Merlin and Mordred’s laughs subsided, both now focused intently on the conversation at hand. “I’ve decided to lift the ban.  Magic will be allowed to be used freely amongst those who have it or wish to learn about it.”

 

Merlin gawked at Arthur as the news hit him.  Mordred had managed to limp across the room and pull Arthur into a full embrace.  Merlin could hear him sniffling and felt his own eyes begin to water. Neither of them could have thought or dreamed that this would happen, especially not after recent events.  They couldn’t contain their joy.

 

“Ok ok, Mordred, I get it, but this is a nice tunic Gwen just made me and I’d rather not have your snot all over it.”  Mordred pulled back, laughing as he wiped his eyes. “Also, since both of you are magic users, I have two propositions for you.  Mordred,” he turned to face the young knight directly. “You can still keep your title as a knight, however, I would also like you to be an ambassador to the Druid people, as well as other magical tribes I may be unaware of.  You would be the best for it, being that you are a Druid yourself and understand their culture. Are you willing to fulfill that position?” Merlin looked over to Mordred, who just stared at Arthur as if he were a ghost. “Mordred?”

 

“Yes, Sire,” he bowed his head.  “I will do my best to fulfill it.”

 

“Thank you, Sir Mordred.”  Arthur turned to Merlin. His heart was pounding against his rib cage furiously.  So much was happening, he didn’t know what to expect anymore. “Merlin.” He nodded, waiting to hear what Arthur would say.  “You will become the new court jester.”

 

Merlin’s heart froze in his chest, his jaw dropping to the floor as Mordred burst into unrestrained laughter, falling to the floor.  “You can’t be serious Arthur?”

 

“What, I’m in need of a new one and you have always fit the bill.”  Mordred was still rolling on the floor as Merlin gave the best death glare he could muster up to counter Arthur’s smirk.  “Calm down, please don’t smite me off the Earth just yet. I’m giving you the title of Court Sorcerer.” Mordred had finally calmed down, perking up at this news, Merlin dropping his utensils onto the tray.  “Yes, you actually have a title now Merlin. You will be my advisor in all things magical. That includes laws, traditions, and problems that arise within the villages of this kingdom. Are you willing to fulfill it?”

 

Merlin stared at Arthur, the same as Mordred had when he was given his title.  “I think that means yes, Sire. Don’t worry, it will get through to him eventually,” Mordred teased.

 

“Yes, well, I will go ahead and take it as an affirmation, because Merlin doesn’t really have a choice in this matter,” Arthur bantered.

 

“Arthur,” Merlin let the seriousness creep back into his tone.  “Will I still be your manservant?”

 

Arthur looked at him, stupefied at the question.  “Merlin, you have a title and position in court now.  You don’t need to be my manservant, I will arrange for a new one.”

 

“Please don’t,” Merlin pleaded.  Mordred and Arthur looked at him in confusion.  Merlin cleared his throat. “It’s just...I enjoy being your manservant.  I will gladly take the position, but I would like to keep the old one too if that’s possible.”

 

Arthur continued to stare at him, Merlin feeling uneasy at the look.  He knew it was an odd request, no one enjoyed doing menial servant tasks.  But he felt the relationship he had with Arthur would deteriorate if he left that post.  Being Arthur’s manservant gave them a closer friendship than any he ever had, and he didn’t want to lose it for some title.  After a while, Arthur finally spoke again. “If that is what you wish Merlin, then I will allow it. Just know I won’t go easy on you just because you have two jobs now.”

 

Merlin beamed at Arthur.  “Don’t worry, Sire. Now that you have let magic into the kingdom, my jobs won’t be quite as difficult as they were in the past.”

 

“I should have known, you just wanted to show off,” Arthur said in an exasperated tone.  Merlin and Mordred smirked at the King’s new dilemma as they imagined armor flying down the corridors after it had been polished.  “Alright, whatever. I have said what I came to say. I will see you both later.” Arthur marched himself out of the room.

 

Merlin looked back up at Mordred when Arthur shut the door.  Mordred spun on his heels and briskly walked to Merlin’s bedside, grabbing Merlin’s face and bringing him into a kiss.  They let themselves drink in the other’s presence, slowly wrapping their arms around themselves.

 

Mordred broke it off, his smile splitting his face.  “We did it.” He giggled, Merlin joining in. “Merlin, we did it!”

 

“We did,” Merlin leaned in, stealing another kiss from Mordred.  “Thank you, Mordred. For everything.” 

 

“Of course.  I would give the world to you.  You deserve it. I love you,” Mordred said.

 

Merlin closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet air filled with a wonderful breakfast aroma and his lover’s scent.  For once everything felt right and whole, just as it was meant to. It all worked itself out, for the better. Even if he wasn’t strong now, even if they were both broken and battered, they would get through this.  They had each other. They had Camelot.

 

“I love you too,” Merlin responded.


End file.
